


Breaking Dawn

by madeleinegrey



Series: The Wakandan Sun [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Post-Black Panther (2018), Reader-Insert, Reconciliation, T'Challa is trying very hard, but Erik is being a bitch, but there's smut, erik killmonger smut, erik killmonger x you, like shit ton of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 45,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeleinegrey/pseuds/madeleinegrey
Summary: "C'm on cuz." Erik laughed, perhaps to disperse the fear that was taking hold of him. "You got a brain. I leave her and she's conveniently pregnant?"Erik 'Killmonger' Stevens lives but no longer as the ruthless mercenary the world had come to fear. The long lost prince has made it back home; his heart however hasn't. He is lost, dejected, unable to fit in his homeland because he had lived his entire life in foreign land; to the native he'd never be anything but an outsider. That is how (Y/N) finds him when King T'challa brings her to Wakanda to meet her former lover, hoping that she would get to him to a way T'Challa couldn't- to remind him that he was Prince N'Jadaka of Wakanda, son of Prince N'Jobu and that he will always have a place in his homeland.But it is laborious to bring back someone who has nothing left him in but remorse and ghost of his failure when (Y/N) herself holds back secrets from him- secrets kept out of hurt and anger Killmonger had left into her. Two of them are thrown once again, stranger to each other but with guilt and memories.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my lovelies!
> 
> Welcome to the sequel. To those who are new, check out the previous work titled Smoke and Mirrors if you want to catch up.
> 
> First things first- infinity war doesn't happen until the end of this book otherwise it'll interfere with the plot structure. From this point, it's no longer canon compliant. We are going to see Erik on his way to be redeemed. Expect a hell lot of angst and smut (eventually). Be warned, there are triggering issues, violence, swearing.
> 
> Moving on to copyright and technicalities, this is a work of fiction. I do not own any characters other than the ones I created out of necessity for plot, they all belong to MCU.
> 
> This is a reader insert. It is primarily written for black women, but everyone is welcome to interact. Leave your votes and comments to let me know how I'm doing.
> 
> Please notify me if you find any mistake.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

Erik Killmonger had never been one to look back in the past. It kept him sane, especially in his line of work where too much dwelling helps regrets plant themselves like seeds in mind and flourish and that alone would have been his fall. But that was before though, before he died.

He had woken up to blinding light shining overhead. He was disoriented, unable to recall where he was before and how had he gotten there. There were sound all around but he couldn't decipher if they were mechanic or buzz of human conversation. All he knew that his entire body was numb and the tip of his fingers where sensation still remained, felt the cold touch of metal. Black dots swam in his vision and before long, he lost his consciousness.

The second time he woke up, he was alone in a bright room; it was a hospital or a lab- Shuri's lab under the Great Mound. There were blue screen around him displaying Wakandan symbols; behind him the gray monitor beeped steadily. He had been here only once, right after he had thrown T'Challa off the warrior falls. He had commanded the research workers to show him all that they possessed. Weapons, medicines, communications- they were decades ahead of the rest of the world. Like a child in theme park he had wandered around, wide-eyed till he found a gold necklace adorn a mannequin. When the suit that sat within the necklace activated, he had felt himself transform to something extraordinary, invincible.

Everything came crashing down to him then- him ascending the throne, preparation for dispatch, the fight in Mount Bashenga, T'Challa driving a blade through his heart... He hadn't noticed the beeping accelerate till someone came running.

"His heart rate is going up-" The medic cried into her comm in Xhosa. "Quick."

Erik tried to glance sideways as much as his stiff neck would allow- there was the princess with three more medic in tow.

"Stay calm." She ordered. "I've alerted my brother. He'll be here shortly."

"Where am I?" His mouth felt like lead. "What yall done to me?"

"I said stay calm Killmonger. Or I will have to drug you again."

Erik growled; he'd grab her by her neck if his body wasn't paralyzed. Like a muzzled dog, he snarled and tried to twist his neck but to no avail. He was trapped inside his own body.

He was vexed and frustrated- T'Challa not only defeated him but he took away his only consolation- a good death. He had brought him back just to lock him up, to watch Erik being eaten by his failure.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" Shuri asked in a tight voice from which he deduced it wasn't her idea to patch him up.

"Yeah." He spat, flexing his fingers. His limbs were gaining sensation. "Your bitch ass brother drove a fucking dagger through me."

"Good. You would feel its pain if I hadn't sedated you so you are welcome."

"Welcome? Yall brought me back just kill me again, humiliating me first though. Imma kill you. Imma kill all of you." He gave a violent jerk, startling his attendants.

"Drug him." Shuri directed. Immediately two medics rushed to his side and held him down as the other injected him with sedative. Erik twisted and cried till his throat was raw and Shuri was fading away in darkness.

Next time he was able to make out all fonts on the monitor, Erik was strapped to the bed. At first he was alarmed, feeling the panic grip him by his throat, restricting his breath with fear. He was bound by his ankles and wrists. Thick, boiling anger seeped through his veins but he forced to calm himself. Acting out will not help him out of his predicament. He needed to stay calm- he had been in situations like these before. Wait and bide your time and when opportunity rises, strike.

"You are awake." Shuri remarked when she came in morning. There was a sharp pain radiating from his chest. He reached for the hem of his robe with the little movement his restraints allowed and pulled down his robe. Slightly raising his head, he took in the sight of his would- it was almost gone save for the faint scar where the knife had penetrated him. The doctors had checked on him previously; he didn't see why the sixteen years old needed to visit him in his waking hours other than to gloat over his recent defeat.

"Sup princess?"

"Nothing much." Shuri matched his faux playful tone. "Cleaning after the guest trashed the entire place. Normal stuffs you know- rebuilding the dragonfliers, treating the wounded, compensating the orphans."

The jibe in her tone made him twitch with anger but patience. "Bringing me back to life isn't the reward I deserve then."

"This wasn't my plan believe me. I'd have left you bleeding on the train tracks. Even that you don't deserve."

"So go ahead, do what you want to." He taunted. Shuri grew stiff with anger, gripping the side of his bed so tightly that she might break it off.

"Don't tempt me Killmonger."

"You say that like its some fucking swear word. It ain't bother me. I made that name my own."

Shuri looked like she was about to strike him but she held herself back.

"Enjoy your time relieving them Mr. Kills-a-lot. Let me know if you need some advil."

Erik was going to retort but they were interrupted by approaching footsteps. T'Challa looked older than the last time he had seen him- somber as always but there was depth to his expression, almost kind and forgiving. Erik hated it.

The first thing the Black Panther noticed was the bindings on Erik. "What are these?"

"I had to brother. I put him on 0.7 and yet he was moving."

"Remove them."

"But brother-"

"Shuri-" T'Challa warned. The younger sibling huffed and instructed the attendant to remove the fastenings. Once free, Erik sat up, massaging his wrists. His vision swam but soon focused on his cousin before him.

"How are you N'Jadaka?" T'Challa's tone was genuinely soft.

"That's not my name." He muttered, not meeting T'Challa's gaze.

"Didn't you scream your name was N'Jadaka in your dramatic monologue?"

"Shuri!" T'Challa chided. The princess shrunk under her brother's rebuke.

"Fine. It's not the name yall get to call me." Erik grumbled.

"Very well. I will try to earn my right then." T'Challa paused, looking around him. Everyone in the room nodded and exited, all except for Shuri.

"I need to do talk with our cousin Shuri. Now go on." Reluctantly she gave him a quick hug and turned on her heels.

"She's got more brain than you." Erik taunted. "And more balls."

T'Challa did not rise to the bait. He walked closer so that he was at the end of the bed on which Erik sat, feet dangling. Erik couldn't stand the silence; it was choking him.

"So what now? You here to lock me up."

"I will never lock you up, Erik. It was never my intention when I asked my sister to heal you."

"Nice going so far." Erik taunted.

"I'm sorry they bound you but you have my word. You will have freedom to move about given that you prove to be trusted on not running away."

"You asking a convict to willingly stay in cage? You are dumber than I thought." He was pleased to see the tiny spark in T'Challa's eyes.

"When's the trial?"

T'Challa opened his mouth with slight hesitation. "It is yet to be decided."

"They don't know you kept me alive, do they?"

"Not yet." The King confessed. "But I will have them know as soon as you are restored to health completely."

"The elders will surely love that. Tell 'em to make it quick."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My execution."

T'Challa sighed. "Your action warrant some punishment but not execution. You had your reasons Erik. It was wrong but you are not to be blamed. My father-"

"I don't want to talk about it." Erik snapped.

"Putting it off will only-"

"I said I don't wanna talk about it nigga. Now leave me the fuck alone."

"As you wish." T'Challa conceded. "Get some rest, cousin."

* * *

 

Soon after he was discharged, Erik was moved to one of the royal suites. It was luxuriant in every way; he had his own bathroom, a study, a bar (it was empty). He had servants at his beck and call. Shuri had given him a kimoyo bead that he had no doubt was being tapped. His area of roaming was limited but he could walk the gardens with escort. Erik will admit it was humiliating but he had to hang in there. Soon he will find a way.

His days were lonely. There was a computer at his disposal which he availed to check up with the world but he never did. He didn't care for it anymore; it was like he had ceased to exist and the world had moved on like the ever flowing river it was, waves washing away all he had done for the past couple of days. The lives he took, the people he sacrificed, all for nothing. He couldn't carry out his father's legacy, let alone honor him. He was going to put Wakanda in its rightful place- the top of the world. He was going to be their savior, show them a new way. He'd have changed Wakanda's history but all they saw in him now was a failed rebel, an outsider.

The word of his survival may have spread already but none of it reached Erik. T'Challa came to visit often. He sat in his study with that placid expression of his; Erik still refused to talk.

One day he got sick of it. "Don't you have kingly shits to do?"

"I do. Taking care of my family is one of them."

"I ain't yo family nigga."

"So you have told me. I suppose the decision is yours but know that I consider you as one."

"Cut out that sugary bullshit. I know what you plan do with me so you can drop that act."

"You do not know everything Erik." T'Challa said, rising.

"Yeah." Erik sneered. "You're gonna come back again, ain'tchu?"

"Yes." The answer came easily from T'Challa who bade him goodnight, leaving Erik alone with his thoughts.

Erik Killmonger had never been one to look back on the past but now he found himself visiting it often, especially a pair of curious dark eyes and a shot going off and wonder if everything was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N: I've changed Noah's name to Nubia. I thought it was very fitting. Tell me what you think of it


	2. Chapter 2

Even though he wouldn't admit it, T'Challa's visits were highlights of Erik's otherwise tedious days. The king came whenever his busy schedule allowed him. They'd sit on the balcony, staring each other down over a cup of hot coffee. So far, either of them was yet to concede but Erik wagered he was getting through.

Then one day, those visits stopped. Erik waited in poorly concealed agitation. What was the newest trouble the novice king had run into? As much he wanted to believe he didn't care for his cousin, Erik knew his life depended entirely upon T'Challa; the day he loses his crown, Erik was as good as dead. He tried to get the guards talking but ended up angering them. They turned a deaf ear to his questions like wardens of psychiatric wards.

Some days later Erik received a subpoena ordering him to appear in court for his trial. Apparently T'Challa had to stop visiting so he could not influence the accused. He wasn't in the committee that tried the case but sat at back with his mother and sister, both of their eyes burning with hatred so intense that it may burn holes through Erik's eyes.

Erik began his defense petitioning for a lawyer.

"I'm an American citizen." He declared. "From where I come from, the defendant is at liberty to call his lawyer."

"Not here you don't." The elder spoke. He was the new leader of Border Tribe as W'Kabi had been removed from that position. "Besides, as much as it is regrettable that you are of Wakandan heritage, you no longer have sanctuary in United States, given you are a wanted man there."

The trial began listing his crimes- treason against the country and the King, instigating violence and civil war, attempt to incite a world war, murder of a member of the Dora Milaje. One by one, the accusers and the witnesses took the stand to detail his savagery, no one more ardently as the Queen Mother. Erik kept the smile on his face that showcased his gold grills but he couldn't help but wonder- did she know that he existed? Or the crimes of her husband? If the situations were different, would she have nurtured like he was her child?

Despite that the strong case the elders made against him, the judgment was dragging on. It could be none other than the King upon whom the power of passing the judgment rested. Erik wondered about the intention behind T'Challa's persistence. The palace had been buzzing since the news of his survival was broken. No man is that noble to go so far as to rehabilitate the man who had tried to take his throne and murder all those he held dear. Was Erik worth risking the wrath of his allies and his family members?

While the proceedings continued, Erik retained his suite or his cell, as he liked to call it. He didn't go out often- he had found the hateful stares unsavory and preferred the isolation. With only his thoughts to accompany, he soon found out that he was descending into madness. Nightmares continued to plague him- he often woke up in cold sweat, gasping for breath. The dreams were growing more vivid- he could recall the exact pattern of blood on the floor that had leaked from his father's lifeless body. He remembered the blue light among clouds above the building vanishing into the sky. While no one came to check on him at night, a doctor showed up in the morning. Erik of course refused to comply. He was still refusing to follow on the treatment of his pierced lungs so he had to be dragged to the medical bay. He felt like a ragdoll being tossed around.

* * *

 

Soon the year turned and with the New Year came the date of the final hearing. According to the legal books of Wakanda, he was facing life-imprisonment with labor in the mountains if they didn't execute him. That was still highly likely. Death sentence still prevailed in the system and Erik had no such friend that could save his neck from the executioner's blade. The country was rigid when it came to tradition; many of them continued till now, most notably being the Challenge for the mantle of the King. Though it had worked well in Erik's favor, it left the security of the king to chances. With him on the throne, it'd have been one supreme ruler who couldn't be overthrown by wrestling half naked in water. He had factored everything into his plan, meticulously set every step yet it had come crumbling down like house of cards.

In his early days, Erik took out his frustration on any object he'd find in the suite- throwing and smashing. Then he immersed himself in working out, channeling all the rage and ambition through his routine. But now after months of being holed up in seclusion, he had no motivation left.

Eventually, the date of final hearing was announced. It might get put off as it had been many times before but the council was weary of the case being dragged for so long. Judging these may be his last days, Erik decided to leave his cage and take a walk down the market.

T'Challa consented readily and even decided to accompany him though Erik would rather he didn't. Dressed in civilian attire, the two royals walked into the buzzing market. Erik had made an effort to blend in- he wore a stripped black tunic with a necklace akin to the one of the Black Panther suit. His hair however remained in dreadlocks which alone rendered his disguise useless. Maybe it was the king by his side but the locals were much less hostile than before.

T'Challa had the favor of his people, no doubt. It was another advantage the older man had over Erik; sooner or later someone may revolt against him while T'Challa didn't have to worry about that risk. The civilians were respectful and never bothered him beyond showing formal courtesy. Apparently it was safe for a king to stroll idly among common people accompanied by only few guards. Erik looked about him- everything was so casual, he could easily run and they wouldn't be able to anything. He waited for the perfect opportunities- they passed, each more risky than before but somehow Erik couldn't do it. It seemed like a test.

"When I was younger," T'Challa started saying when he understood Erik was not going to escape. "I used to complain how much work I had to do than anyone my age. As an heir of the throne, there is much to be learnt before one assumes kingship. So when I returned from school, my tutors would sit me down and teach me for hours. While my friends sparred and raced, I learnt about our history and diplomacy, how to eloquent and proper. But none of them, not my tutors not any book could teach me what it truly meant to be a king. None but my father."

Erik growled like a feral animal but T'Challa continued, not insensitive but with resolution. "When he could get some time away from office, he'd bring me here, to the market. He visited every shop, bought one item from every seller and distributed them amongst our household staffs. He said a king is not the supreme unit who gets to decide how citizens live their life. They do not owe us their loyalty but we are the one who owe them. They have put us in position of power to guide them, to protect them. It is our responsibility that we are burdened with, not privilege."

Erik to whom all these were directed listened in silence.

"I've always had such high regard for him. He was everything I wanted to be- the just ruler, a loving father, someone you could have faith in. I was intimidated by how much I had to live up to. But now I cannot think of him without imagining blood in his hand. It's hard to reconcile the two different images I have of him." He finished with a sigh.

Was this his way of apologizing?- Erik wondered but he held his tongue. He had no interest in lessening the guilt of his cousin.

Often they stopped at the shops where T'Challa would purchase something the same way his father did. He would buy the same thing for Erik who refused to accept anything but still was asked each time. The market was busy as hive- tram ran through the horde of people all going about their business. All around were various assortments of colors- heaps of ripe fruits and their sweet smell wafting through the air; shops displaying clothes and dashikis of various hues. They have sustained themselves for thousands of years and built a world away from the distress of their fellow brothers and sisters all over the globe.

"I am leaving for the US tomorrow." The king said as they walked back to the palace. There was nervousness to his otherwise kingly tone, as though he was trying to diffuse the tension before he delivers the blow. "There are some prospective buildings I have to inspect. And we have the UN summit coming up."

Erik said nothing. He knew of the outreach programs. T'Challa did what none of his ancestors did- he opened the gates to Wakanda- to engage in international relationships and take part in the events of the world. He had declared the true wealth of Wakanda for the world to exploit. Often T'Challa had spoken about the reforms he was about to bring many reforms as the result of such act- revising the marriage laws (Wakandans couldn't marry outsiders; it interfered with the security of the country), setting up diplomatic relations that facilitated trade as well as communication. Erik refused to indulge him- the world won't change a bit this way.

"Are you well?" T'Challa inquired when Erik gave no reaction.

"You mean if I'm trippin' cuz yall gonna execute me tomorrow? Nah. I'm a soldier. I learned to die a long time ago. Even did till you had me dragged to yo lab. Now look at all you gotta do save yo crown. That Jabari man- M'Baku he don't look too happy 'bout it. You can thank me cuz, now you know your allies."

"I'm grateful." T'Challa said dryly. "But yes, I was wondering how you were holding up. The hearing will change a lot of things. I just regret that we didn't get the time to bond as we should have. Maybe we could have worked together. Our fathers-"

"If you bring up yo dead pops again imma leave." Erik warned.

"We cannot put this off any longer. We cannot move on unless we have put this behind us."

"Who says I wanna move on? You can try to bury the sins of yo father but you know he ain't nothing but a killer."

"And I do not dispute that. My father took away everything from you. If I can help find some peace-"

"And what? You think everything's gonna be forgiven? We gon be chummy like them boys in magazines? Nah. After all yo pops did, nothing you gon do gonna make me forget the shits I went through. You can try and beg each day but that don't change nothing. You should have just left me to die."

"You will give up your life knowing the world has so much to offer?"

"Ain't nothing the world can offer me."

"But if you could live, wouldn't you want to find a new purpose?"

" I had a purpose before, you took it from me. Now I got nothing to live for."

T'Challa sighed, visibly disconcerted.

"Don't beat yo'self over it cuz." Erik said, starting to walk faster so his cousin couldn't keep up. "If you gon be king, you gotta live with that."

* * *

 

T'Challa had left before the sun rose above the mountains. In his absence, Erik was put in chains and brought before the council where all tribe leaders were attendance along with Shuri and Queen Ramonda.

Erik was found guilty of all he was accused of. He was to be imprisoned with manual work for the rest of his life. If he showed sign of compliance, the penalty could be decreased. Further concessions maybe made given he proved himself to be trustworthy. The hall had erupted with protests, many calling for his execution but the council's decision remained unaltered. All because T'Challa had vouched for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Erik had been doing pull ups in the courtyard of the mining residence when a servant came to deliver the king's demand. He had been summoned to T'Challa's office. Still resentful toward his cousin, he was tempted to spurn the call as he had done several times before. They haven't had a cozy chat since Erik's sentence was announced. The villain had staunchly refused to breathe the same air as anyone of the royal blood. Call him petty but it was the only form of revenge Erik could enjoy.

"My prince?" The girl squeaked when Erik hadn't responded.

Erik landed on the floor in perfect balance and grabbed the towel hanging from the rack; he was sweating profusely. In the corner of his eyes, he spied the servant eye him apprehensively and smirked to himself; he's still got that appeal. Spraying some water on himself, he washed off the sweat beading his shapely physique and bade the servant to lead the way.

The city of Birnin Zana was awash with ample sunlight of the setting sun. Erik gaped at the bronze and golden building in silence- Wakanda had healed her wounds and once again, shinning. Soon he was amidst the cacophony of the city. Upon exiting the royal carrier, he was seized by numerous judgmental eyes. After spending months amidst constant hostility, Erik found that he still hasn't gotten used to it. He refused to let it get to him however. He held his head high and marched straight ahead.

By the closed door, a dora stood vigil- Ayo. If looks could kill, her eyes would have slashed him open multiple times. Her hatred toward him was personal. He had slit her partner's throat open in the battle. She shouldn't have gotten in his way, just like Linda. He had put her down without slightest hesitation. He didn't even think about her up until now. She gave her life for him and he had spent it on nothing.

Eventually Erik was shown in. In his spacious office with a grand view of the city below sat T'Challa. As his footsteps echoed, the King looked up from the screen his kimoyo beads projected.

"If you wanted to humiliate me, you could just shave my head, put me on a mule and make me take a round about the city."

"Tempting." T'Challa said amicably. "Take a seat."

Erik did, leaning back comfortably to appear as imposing as possible. T'Challa remained unaffected however. Wanting to give his cousin his complete attention, he shuffled the files strewn in front of him and set them aside to clear some space.

"I'm sorry to have kept you on waiting. We have run into some problem regarding our programs. Ourresources are tight. The accounts are almost dry but I cannot risk selling morevibranium, not when we cannot control what the buyers do with them-"

"And you tellin me this why?" Erik sneered.

"Maybe I simply seek some company" was the king's easy response.

"Oh I don't think a mining laborer is worthy of the king's company." Erik didn't hide the bitterness in his voice. His palm had lost whatever smoothness it had retained to the heavy work of mining. Day and night he had worked inside the belly of mountains, covered by dirt and soot as he struggled to breathe inside the stifling tunnels.

"You had a choice- serve under the Jabari or the mining tribe. It is my knowledge you chose the latter."

"That's cuz I got enough sense not to cross that ape-man. He ain't a pussy like you."

T'Challa cringed at his vulgarity. "Yes, M'Baku can be intimidating. But he is coming around and so are the others. Soon we will take part in our first General Assembly. If all goes well, we may- where are you going?"

Erik had risen to his feet, keen to depart. "Oh forgive me your highness. I didn't wanna be dragged here to listen to your bullshit."

"Cousin please." T'Challa hurried to intercept Erik at the door.

"Leave me alone nigga-" Erik swatted the extended hand but the king was persistent.

"I'm doing everything I can for you to-"

"Stop acting like you are doing it for me." Erik snarled. "You doing it for yo'self. You feel guilty that's why. What did you expect? That I would come running to you cuz you spared mah life?"

"I wasn't expecting anything. I saw there's more to you and I wanted to give you a chance."

"A chance of what? Nah I see how it is- you my nigga wanted to see me like this. Powerless. At yo mercy."

"Hear me out Erik dammit!" T'Challa's booming voice echoed around them. Erik who had been refusing his efforts went still at once. For a while, none of them spoke.

"So you  _can_  curse." Erik's voice was no longer harsh but light with teasing. T'Challa relaxed.

"Yes." He confirmed shyly like it was a shameful secret. It succeeded in bringing a smile to Erik's lips.

"You've said 'fuck' then?"

"Erik-" T'Challa's tone bothered on irritation but he was nowhere near his breaking point.

"Where did the uptight crown prince of Wakanda learned such vulgar words?"

The tense atmosphere had dissolved. T'Challa welcomed the light mood. "I attended Oxford Erik. I had picked up some slang."

"So you do talk hood? I'd like to hear that. Does the queen mother know her precious son's got a dirty mouth?"

"Swearing is a form of expression Erik; it's found in every language. Everyone does it." Erik however continued sniggering. T'Challa suddenly realized it was the first time Erik was showing genuine cheerfulness. His laugh enunciated the dimples on his cheek which the king found adorable. It at once made him happy and sad.

"Why haven't you come to see me before cousin?" He found himself asking. "Why did you stay away?"

Erik's face morphed into seriousness. "Man yall got no business keeping me alive. Been a weapon all my life. Imma be wondering why else yall want me around. "

"I am not keeping you here to fight my wars Erik."

Erik didn't know how to answer that. He wanted no forgiveness. He wanted to rage on, to burn everything down and himself along with it. But now the fog of rage is clearing, making it impossible to hold on to his resentment. He didn't want to allow himself to accept T'Challa's outstretched hand. But what else could he do? He had nowhere to go. He had nothing to look forward to. T'Challa was offering him a clean slate.

"I didn't trust you." He said eventually.

"That is fair. Now you know what I'm offering so let's make a truce. You have served your time so I declare your penance is at end. Let us learn from our past and move on to the future." He extended his hand. This time Erik met him halfway.


	4. Chapter 4

**1 year later:**

As she sat by the wide windscreen of the aircraft, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel she was going to burst any moment from the tension. It wasn't related to flying of course-the aircraft was as secure as it could be. The royal talon fighter was an ultra-modern carrier furnished with technology straight out of the Avatar as well as advanced weaponry being both the King's personal aircraft and an indispensible part of Wakanda's air defense. No, it was the inevitable destiny she had set up for herself when she had taken up T'Challa's offer to visit Killmonger.

If she's going to be there, (Y/N) might as well practice calling him by Erik or his official title of Prince; she wasn't sure after everything he'd keep his mercenary identity. Yet she couldn't think of him as anything other than that. How has he changed? Did he even look like himself anymore? And most importantly, was this worth the humiliation she was about to be subjected to? God, she was so not ready for this.

King T'Challa who had been talking to the formidable bald lady who piloted the aircraft left her side to sit next to (Y/N). The two soldiers that had accompanied him sat opposite them with their spear upright.

"We should be landing in about twelve minutes." He said in a gentle sotto voce. "Are you nervous?"

(Y/N) nodded gulping like a schoolgirl caught in trouble. She fidgeted with her hands to keep herself from crying out she had changed her mind. It wasn't just the prospect of facing Killmonger that made her nervous as much as the certain fate of him finding about what she didn't want to share with him. Since boarding the aircraft, T'Challa hadn't brought up Nubia once; it made (Y/N) even more suspicious.

"Look-" T'Challa interrupted her train of thoughts.

They were passing the grasslands now- several youth herding goats on the back of mules waved at them.  _Wait was this Wakanda?_  - (Y/N) thought as she rushed to the window. It was afternoon- the sun was gradually sinking in the horizon, bathing the plain with golden light; the trees and the moving cattle casting long shadows.

Soon the grassland was succeeded by thick forest, trees of which rose over hundred feet. The aircraft flew straight into it. Panicking, (Y/N) looked at her fellow passengers who looked at each other with secretive smiles, totally unfazed by the fact they were diving into goddamn branches.

Closer and closer they flew, finally plunging into the thicket. Astonishingly, the aircraft felt none of the impact. Then (Y/N) realized the forest have part like a flimsy screen to reveal the Golden City under its care.

"Holy shit-" She mumbled, dazed at the incredible act that happened. It was like walking into theme park, only here the castle and the kings were real. It was a sprawling, futuristic city, one-fifth the size of Manhattan with as many big and glorious towers; a river flowed through its bosom, disappearing in the mountain beyond the city.

"Please sit down." T'Challa guided her to the seat. That was when (Y/N) noticed she had clutched onto his arm like a scared child. Embarrassed, she muttered 'sorry' and sat down; T'Challa however remained standing.

The flight began its descent completing a circle around a humongous building- two conical towers erected on massive bases, joined by a single bridge ten stories above the ground. From above, the city looked like a polished bee-hive. With minimal turbulence, the aircraft landed in a spacious courtyard where more soldiers stood in two lines awaiting them.

"Come." T'Challa beckoned her as the rear of the ship opened and a ramp descended. The guards got off first followed by the pilot who spoke with the king in hushed tone, so soft that they might be conversing through telepathy. As soon as they neared the women at ground, all of them made a cross with their arm and struck their spear. It seemed to be a greeting salute, (Y/N) thought, recalling the moment she met the pilot who did the exact gesture.

"You can go general." T'Challa said to the lady. "I will need you to debrief me tomorrow first thing in the morning but tonight, rest."

The woman said something in Xhosa which (Y/N) took to be agreement and marched away with rest of the guards while the King led her to the palace. If she had marveled at the aircraft, this certainly rendered her speechless. The monumental edifice was something beyond man's imagination and yet it was corporeal; it was a surreal mix of fantasy and possibility. The structure was gigantic with high ceiling and perfectly placed furniture with ample space; the windows were huge and the murals depicted on the walls were inspired by their culture and history.

(Y/N) often fell behind; she felt uncomfortable being escorted by a King. Shouldn't he have his guards do that for him?

As they were walking up the ramp that led them to the next floor, (Y/N) noticed a young girl appear at the other end. She wore her hairs in braids tied above in intricate bun; her white skirt reached her knees above which she wore a red jacket. Despite being apprehensive, the curiosity was palpable in her dark eyes.

"Ubhuti!" The girl exclaimed as they neared her. T'Challa left (Y/N)'s side to embrace the girl, murmuring something in their tongue. Two of them conversed animatedly as if they were incomplete without another.

"This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)-" T'Challa introduced as soon as he detached from the girl. "(Y/N), this is my sister Shuri."

"Princess." (Y/N) bowed a little as a courtesy.

"Hi." The princess said shyly, waving at her. There was a childlike vibe about her that put (Y/N) immediately at ease.

"Is our mother up yet?" T'Challa asked his sister as the three of them started to walk.

"No brother. She had this chest pain so she retired early. I must check with the medics...they did say she had a heart-block."

"Ah." He murmured. To (Y/N) he said, "I hope you will not object but I have taken the liberty of ordering your dinner early. I thought you'd like to eat and refresh yourself before we take you there tomorrow."

The way he said 'there' sounded odd to her as though he was this animal being locked away.

"Is that alright with you?"

"Yes. Of course." (Y/N) tried to sound grateful but due to fatigue it came out flat.

"Very well. Shuri will show you to your chamber. I am certain you will find everything to your comfort and our servants are always available on-call. Should any problem arise, do not hesitate to call."

T'Challa then took his live, saying he'd see her at dinner. (Y/N) didn't miss the way the two siblings exchanged a dubious look before they parted.

"How are your studies going, Princess?" (Y/N) asked to dilute the awkwardness that had settled after the King's departure.

"Oh I'm not in school anymore." Shuri replied in the same exotic accent as her brother. (Y/N) decided she liked it very much. "I finished school when I was eleven and that's because my teachers insisted that I take last two courses separately. Otherwise I would have been done by ten."

"That's...." Genius. Extraordinary. "- amazing." (Y/N) said. "What do you do to pass your time now?"

It must have been something she was waiting to be asked about and as soon as (Y/N) did, she launched into a conversation in a very vivacious manner. "I supervise all the technological development of Wakanda- work with other researchers to develop new stuffs. But I haven't got the time now since my brother had placed me to oversee the out-reach programs. I am not complaining though. It's really exciting! Everyone is so taken with our hoverbikes! I mean they have been here for at least twelve years." She didn't sound snobbish at all but genuinely amused.

They stop outside a big door which Shuri opened by holding her wrist in front of what appeared to be a scanning device. The door parted to reveal a spacious room the size of (Y/N)'s entire apartment. There was a large bed opposite of which was a black screen and between them, a comfy couch. A large glass screen separated the room from its balcony. The theme was soft comforting color of cream and turquoise- a calming agent to her eyes.

"Here-" Shuri said behind her. (Y/N) turned to find her holding a bead bracelet similar to the one Shuri herself wore. She stretched out her hand as the princess told her two and the bracelet was slid over her wrist.

"See this is going to give access to wherever you need to go as well as communication device." Shuri tapped one bead which gave a ping and a small screen appeared above her wrist. She touched the screen several times until the device beeped twice and disappeared. "Now it knows you. Touch this one if you want to call any servant and this one here, you can reach me with it. I'll tell show all the features later."

"Yeah okay. Thank you for helping and uh- your hospitality." (Y/N) said.

"I just hope I passed. Mother will kill me if I forgot to give you this like the last time but let's not talk about that." She paused and then asked hesitantly. "You don't think I'm like a real princess do you?"

"I think you are very cool." (Y/N) assured, warmed by the girl's innocence. "And you are the modern day princess your country needs."

Shuri smiled a little brighter than before and bade her goodbye.

Alone at last, (Y/N) dropped down to the bed and let out her breath she had been controlling. A little while later, when she was calmer, she upended her bag and the items scattered on the bed.

Jim picked up the call almost immediately.

"Hey babe. You there yet?"

His voice was a comfort being so far away; she let it wash over her. "Just now."

"That's fast. Was everything okay? You face any problem?"

"None." (Y/N) assured. "Everything is okay. They have put me in a suite. I'm going to rest a little then go for dinner."

"Good good."

"Mm. What's Nubia doing?"

"She just fell asleep. Me and Lucy took turns rocking her all day and you know how she starts to cry when you stop. My knees are worn out."

(Y/N) smiled fondly. "I don't blame you...she got my genes. But don't let her crawl about, especially around the stairs."

"Don't worry about it alright? I got all the help I need. You take rest, just empty your mind. And uh...I take it you aren't seeing him today?"

"No."

Jim was incredibly supportive when (Y/N) told him about T'Challa's request. They had found each other in their most difficult times and held no secrets. He was her lover but firstly, he was her friend. It was all up to her Jim had assured, but if she wanted, he'd gladly look after Nubia. By the time she was done packing, Lucy, his sister was already at her apartment, ready to fill in her post. It was unreal how good they were to her. Wasn't she slighting them by choosing to visit Killmonger who had done nothing but destroyed her?

Suddenly, she wasn't ready. She requested her dinner to be brought to her room; the host may not see it to be decent but (Y/N) couldn't face anyone at the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

"I do not see why you insist upon me meeting her." The queen mother said irritably at the breakfast table. "You are over-doing this, son."

T'Challa looked up from his fruit salad to his mother who sat by his right. She wore a frown on her otherwise smooth face, mouth pressed in thin line; she had been like that since he had declared his intention to bring (Y/N) to Wakanda. He had an inkling suspicion that she had faked chest pain in order to avoid meeting (Y/N) the day before. Queen Ramonda had never been one to stand on ceremony; she was forthright yet amiable so it was disconcerting to see her react so passive-aggressively.

"I don't know mother. She seems nice." Shuri piped up.

"Yes everyone is nice in your eyes Shuri. Ever since you have been to that god-awful country you are always going on about how 'cool' they are." Ramonda snapped. "First you let that murderer live and now you bring her concubine here. I do not know what you are intending to do T'Challa, but if this is making up to that...man, this is not the way. You are sheltering a snake, one that will strengthen and come to bite you again."

"Mama-" T'Challa complained. "Give N'Jadaka a chance. He is our family after all."

"That he may be but you are making a grave mistake, son. Think about it."

"I will. In the meantime please be civil to (Y/N)."

"I would if she would show up in time. She did not even come down for dinner last night. The rudeness..."

(Y/N) dashed in minutes later, panting from breath and looking thoroughly distressed. As soon as she is seated as T'Challa instructed her to, a shower of apologies fell from her lips.

"Your Highness, queen mother, princess-" She bowed at Shuri. "My apologies. I had kept you waiting unwillingly- I had to work on something till late night because of the time zone."

"That is alright." Ramonda interrupted. "We have started already."

"We have?" Shuri looked up from her untouched plate, surprised. Her mother glared at her.

T'Challa coughed uncomfortably and proceeded to ask (Y/N) if she had a good night's sleep.

"I did, thank you. It's everything I could ask for and beyond."

"That is good to hear. We in Wakanda believe in providing every comfort to our guests." Shuri coughed, no doubt recalling the time they had brought N'Jadaka in chains. "Don't we mother?"

If it weren't for her good breeding, Ramonda would have cussed in front of her children and the outsider but looking at T'Challa's pleading eyes, she resigned.

"It is a pleasure to have you with us (Y/N). Tell me, where are you from?"

"San Francisco, your highness. It's in California."

"California? Isn't that where that ma- N'Jadaka is from?"

"Oakland is only a ferry ride away." (Y/N) confirmed.

"Mm. So you knew him from your childhood?"

"Uh no. I didn't meet Erik until I was working for the US govt. We met through our agency."

"Oh. How well did you know him?"

(Y/N) paused before she answered. She hadn't expected a full investigation at breakfast. "As well as anyone could I suppose? We were colleagues and uh...we worked together couple of times."

The queen mother raised her brows, not believing her. "What exactly do you do in your work?"

Damn her mother for being tactless, T'Challa thought. (Y/N) however seemed not to be bothered and continued to answer her.

"I work with intelligence, monitor threats or terrorist activities. Research and analyze."

Ramonda looked at T'Challa, her eyes saying 'See?'

"How long have been working for them? You look quite young. Did you even complete your education?"

"I was recruited early but I went back later to complete my masters."

Unable to find anything to poke about, Ramonda settled into making small conversations with (Y/N) who fared quite well despite giving the appearance of a nervous wreck. As soon as they were done, T'Challa instructed Shuri to take (Y/N) to her suite where she'd get ready to visit N'Jadaka. (Y/N) thanked them for their hospitality and tailed Shuri out.

The king turned to her mother.

"Are you finished interrogating her?"

"I was making conversation. Besides, she's well educated and a foreign agent. Am I the only one who is seeing the threat?"

     

As she sat waiting to be called, (Y/N) couldn't control her panic. She had interlocked her fingers to keep them from shaking; her collar felt tight but as soon as she loosened it, she felt chilly. She wore a pantsuit, conservative and formal. Jim had called earlier and his words had sedated her momentarily. Now however she was back to being hysterical.

Stop it, she chided herself. She had gone toe to toe with many of world's most notorious criminals. She was stronger than this; Erik after all, was just a man.

Okoye came to fetch her. She was the one flying their aircraft and was certainly the king's right hand woman. She was dressed in the same red tunic of Wakanda's elite women warriors. Being their general she wore gold armor instead of their silver.

They were met by the king and his other guards in the vestibule. (Y/N) gave a weak smile in response to T'Challa's beckoning. They set off to a gentle pace, the guards following them. Several corridors and an elevator ride later they came upon a suite outside which a guard was posted. She crossed her arms to salute the king and let them pass.

T'Challa consulted the beads on his wrist and the door slid open, revealing a spacious chamber.

"Stay here. I will go ahead." He stepped through the door, leaving (Y/N) behind with two guards and her anxiety.

Erik was leaning onto the glass partition that separated his room from the balcony. Hearing his cousin approach, he turned around with a glint in his eyes. "'Sup cuz?"

"Good morning N'Jadaka." While his guards waited by the door, T'Challa had crossed half the distance between Erik and himself.

"I told you not to call me that. What's up with all these bitches any way? You change yo mind?"

"I'm not going to lock you up N'Jadaka. You can let your guards down."

"Stop with the bullshit right there. You don't think I know you have that bitch posted outside my door night and day? Soon as I get out, you get sent alarm on yo fancy bracelet. I'm basically living in a prison."

"You are living as a prince and your security is important. I wouldn't deny though you have given us plenty of reasons to keep watch on you."

Erik kicked at the floor. His agitation was diminishing but his posture remained rigid. T'Challa sighed and cautiously stepped toward him. "Someone is here to visit you."

He signaled Okoye who shouted something in Xhosa. Erik's eyes went wide as he recognized the lissome, sylphlike outline of (Y/N). Words left him. He stared into those hauntingly dark eyes that used to sparkle with curiosity, now oozing mortification. He grappled for words but none came, his mind was blank. Then suddenly like he had been hit with a lightning bolt, he reacted- pouncing at T'Challa with wild fury.

"What the fuck?"

The Dora Milaje intervened immediately, putting a barrier between the two cousins with their spear.

"Come at me nigga...imma put yo ass in the ground like I should have. You bitch-ass motherfucker-" Erik cried. "Who told you can fuck with my life? Huh?"

He landed a solid punch on T'Challa's jaw and in turn was thrown down by Okoye wielding her spear.

"Erik calm down." T'Challa was saying. "Do you really want to do this?"

"I ain't afraid to fight you- I beat yo ass once and I'd do it again and this time imma make sure you stay dead."

Terrified by the sudden burst of violence, (Y/N) stepped back, unsure of what to do. "I think I should go."

"No." The king cried as he lent his hand to Erik. "Cousin stop this madness!"

"Nah I don't wanna see her." Erik spat as he picked himself her, still growling like a feral animal. (Y/N) felt a sharp pain in her chest. "I don't wanna see you. I don't wanna see any of yo faces. You won't lemme live, you won't lemme die. You just gonna torture till I rot and die-"

"This isn't a punishment Erik. For once, let go of your anger or you will regret this later."

"No it's okay." It was (Y/N) who spoke up. "I should leave."

"Ms (Y/L/N) don't-" T'Challa pleaded. "Stay please. (Y/N)!"

It was only in the privacy of her suite, (Y/N) let herself break her composure. She sank down to the floor, hugging her knees, the floodgate of memories opening once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N- I'm behind the schedule cuz my exam dates have been announced. I have to make up for the time I wasted so the updates won't be as frequent as before. I'll try to post one every book but can't promise. It'll go like this till end of August. Sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N- Guess who's back? Back again?

After dinner, (Y/N) found herself in the balcony. She was extremely tired – her shoulder hurt as did her back, result of maintaining formal posture while she was with the royal family. Now sleep has come to collect its due but (Y/N) couldn't get herself to bed. Up there above the cityscape, she was looking down on the world like a silent guardian, watching the lights go out as the night deepened.

There was a dull ache in her chest; every time she reached for it, she found it to be hollow. She tried to divert her mind and the only thing that she could think about was how terribly she missed her daughter. Jim had called not hours ago, assuring everything was in perfect harmony. Yet the mother's heart won't rest till she has seen her child asleep on her breast. It wasn't even evening in LA and she was pulling her hair in worry.

She hadn't much to do all day after running away from Killmonger. The princess offered her to show (Y/N) around her lab but apparently she got stuck in something. She'd keep the dowager queen company but it was obvious that she wasn't in the same page with her son regarding (Y/N). So she kept to herself, taking a walk around the royal garden with one of the Dora Milaje- Ayo her name was, before she returned for dinner. T'Challa being the king had much to attend to but he was there not long ago, apologizing in behalf of his cousin.

"No it's okay." (Y/N) had told him. "I kind of expected him to burst out like that. But it's over now. I've done what you have asked of me. I would like to return to my home now."

She needed to see Nubia, to remind her why she had cut Killmonger out of her life. She needed to kiss Jim so his touch can wipe away the itchy feel Killmonger's sight had given her. It wasn't supposed to be like this, she thought to herself. She was going to finish her degrees, get a stable job, get married if she met the right guy and maybe start a family later. Never did she imagine she was going to get knocked up by a psychopath and be a single mother before she hit thirty; she had plans and Killmonger came along, fucking up everything for her. Why couldn't he just die? (Y/N) could have put everything behind her and start anew. She had a life now- a daughter, a loving partner, a fixed residence- everything she'd be content with. She has a second chance at life and she's wasn't about to fuck it up for that murderer.

(Y/N) turned around, ready to retire only to be startled by a figure in the foyer. Panicking, she pressed one of the beads of the bracelet that Shuri had shown her to use to send distress signal. Killmonger had realized what she had done and raised his hands defensibly. "I'm just here to talk."

Not believing a word, (Y/N) stepped back. If it weren't for the glass panes, she would have doubled over and fallen to her death. In the corner Ayo appeared, spear aimed at Killmonger. "Stand back!"

"C'm on I ain't done nothing. I just wanna talk so you can leave us."

"No please stay." (Y/N) pleaded to the warrior woman who showed no sign of relenting much to Killmonger's frustration. He took a note of (Y/N)- there was terror and astonishment in her eyes.

"I ain't gon hurt you- you know me."

"Not anymore I don't. Get away from me. Now."

Her outburst had seemed to put a damper on Killmonger's approach. He froze on his feet, unable to come to terms with the vehemence of (Y/N)'s reaction. His suite was where they had locked eyes for the first time in a year but it wasn't until this moment they realized, their paths have truly crossed again. It was surreal and overwhelming, pregnant with words unsaid and the sheer hatred that was a touch away from breaking out.

Warily he stepped forth, his heart beating so loud he can hear the thrum in his ears; Ayo gripped her spear tighter.

"Please." He pleaded; his stoic façade had started to crack. "I just want to speak with her. Alone."

"No." (Y/N) said firmly. The last time they were in the same room, he had tried to strangle the king and before that he had almost succeeded killing her. She was not going to be within a mile of him without any protection.

Realization hit Killmonger like splash of cold water- she was scared for her life and he was the reason.

"Okay." He exhaled. He started to move in leisurely steps, circling around them from safe distance and stopping a few feet away, just at the opposite end. (Y/N) waited with baited breath for him to speak. What was he gonna say? That he was sorry? She had known him long enough to know everything that comes out of his mouth was bullshit. He was nothing if not the cunning, manipulative golem he had honed himself to be. And now she had a permanent mark on her stomach to remind her exactly why I should have ditched his ass a long time ago.

Bracing herself on the balcony railing, (Y/N) stole a glance at Killmonger, just to make sure he wasn't about to charge at her. There were a million thoughts fluttering inside her head and all her instincts told her to jump at the man, tear him from limbs to limbs, make him pay for all the distress he had subjected her to. She should, she had every goddamn right and she was sure Ayo would help her too, since she harbored intense hatred towards him especially after he had slit the throat of her partner. But she had to restrain herself. She had to be strong, to show that he no longer had any effect on her but she had been lying to herself.

"Leave us." Killmonger commanded. "Look I ain't got no weapon on me, yo king made sure of that. Just let us some privacy. You can wait inside."

Ayo glanced at (Y/N), looking for her approval but the woman had her face turned away, looking out to the starry sky. "It's okay."

The guard was astonished to be dismissed but not any more than Killmonger, who had not expected (Y/N) to concede.

Ayo departed, glancing suspiciously at the duo. Alone at last, Killmonger cautiously walked up to her. But (Y/N), who was too overwhelmed by his presence alone, moved away so she stood at the door, ready to run if situation demanded. For a while, none of them spoke.

"You have changed your hair." He said at length. (Y/N) didn't respond. "I don't like it."

"I don't care." She snapped.

Killmonger was taken aback by her fury. He collected himself. "(Y/N) I-"

(Y/N) turned, looking him straight in the eye. In a deathly calm voice, she challenged, "What?"

What was he here for? Certainly not to say sorry. Killmonger would never do that no, that was too soft for him. Had he come to insult her for chasing him even after he had made it clear he was done with her? She wouldn't be surprised. The last time (Y/N) had tried to reach out, she had been lying in pool of her own blood.

"How you been?" He said instead.

(Y/N) gave a hollow laugh. How she had been? Was he fucking serious? That was all he had to say after he had left her to die?

"Better than I have been in a long time." (Y/N) kept her tone civil. T'challa seemed to be a good man. The only qualm she had with him he hadn't killed Killmonger. God knew she would have.

"Aight. Okay." He murmured to himself. "You still living in DC?"

"I've transferred. Not that it's any of your business."

Killmonger nodded, his eyes downcast. He did deserve that. "Yeah."

"Good. Now I've done what I came here to do. So if you'll excuse me..." She dodged past him; Ayo who had been waiting for her inside, followed, guarding her rear.

"And Killmonger?" She paused suddenly. Killmonger whipped around. "I hope you die painfully."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N- I apologize for my Xhosa. It's all google translate.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N- It's officially my exam week. Thank yall for your patience. Enjoy.

A few days after (Y/N) left, T'Challa dropped by Erik's studio in Birnin Bashenga. The city by the Canaan border was his current domicile after the disagreement between two cousins. The fragile truce that had formed between them was broken with a snap of finger- a breach of trust that extinguished the tiny quivering flame of hope in Erik. They can never accept for who he is so they wanted to fix him, to mold him into something that works for them. He refused to accept any apology and demanded to be moved somewhere else- he needed to clear his head- and T'Challa, being guilt-trapped had green-lighted his relocation.

He was lounging on the wide balcony of his studio when the guard announced the king's arrival. He wore a loose shirt with floral motif over cargo shorts; he rejected any kind of traditional attire claiming the heat would not allow him. He wasn't lying- Wakanda in June was dry as thirsty tongue. However it wasn't proper attire to greet a king. Erik being petty as always only acknowledged T'Challa as king in sarcasm and that day, he didn't have the patience for one.

"Erik." T'Challa addressed in neutral voice. Still resentful toward his cousin taking everything into his own hand, the younger man did not acknowledge the king. He ignored him as he had ignored T'Challa's calls and continued sipping the sharbat; its fruity flavor brought back memories of his childhood.

Knowing Erik wouldn't budge, T'Challa had a seat put next to him.

"What up cuz?" Erik sneered when T'Challa dismissed his guards. "Brought my dead mum now, did ya?"

"No." T'Challa refused to let it descend into another of their fights. "I've come on official business. We have run into a conflict involving our outreach center in Ethiopia. Our presence is apparently a nuisance for our American friends."

"And you tellin me cuz...?"

"You are the governor of our pan-African development programs. We have vested you with responsibility to oversee our outreach assignments flourish in these countries since you expressed your interest but now you are neglecting you duty."

"Like you give a fuck." Erik sniggered.

"Please quit those abominable words. And yes, I do care, especially what you think."

"Oh you care, do you? You care 'bout my opinion so much that you thought its gon be cool to bring that bitch 'round here."

T'Challa squirmed; his intention to avoid this topic was failing terribly. "I had assumed you'd want to see someone, anyone you have known before...I assumed wrong."

"Nah. You brought her so you could get through me. That ain't happening cuz. I see through all yo schemes."

T'Challa sighed. "I've made a mistake. But I hope we can put this behind us Erik. I do everything to make it easier for and it was never my intention to spite you."

Erik turned his face away, fuming. He didn't want to be bothered anymore. Since he had woken up, he had tried to rebuild himself but all that had gone straight out of the window when the ghost of his past stepped through that door. (Y/N) had looked shockingly thin; her face was gaunt, her clothes loose on her frame. He had robbed her of her health as well as her spirit, leaving only bitter hatred in the hollow cavity of her heart.

"Erik?"

T'Challa's voice pulled him out of his rumination. He had been aware of his cousin saying something but he had tuned out.

"What?" He asked irritably.

"I asked if you'd like to accompany me to my trip to the US."

"Heh!" Erik sniggered. "You don't have to suck it up to me cuz. Just leave me the fuck alone."

"I have already spoken with the elders and they have agreed to let you come with me-" Erik was going to speak but T'Challa silenced him by putting up his finger.

"- if you can assure them you will not attempt to escape."

"Might as well put a muzzle on me." Erik spat.

"Don't treat it lightly Erik. I almost had to bend over backwards to make them consider at least."

"Well I din't tell you to. You keep saying you ain't gon do nothing I tell you not to do but you go ahead and do it, you dumb bitch."

"I'm not a dumb-" T'Challa closed his eyes to consider if this was the road he should take. "Don't you see? This is as much your project as it is mine. You showed us how selfish we had been ignoring everything around us, thinking that we will forever be untouched by their misery."

"Nah I showed you Wakanda's got the power to flip the entire balance of power. I ain't say nothing 'bout those white assclowns you been rubbing yo butts with."

"And what do you propose we do? Kill and enslave like the very people you despise? How are you any different than them? Before they were on the top of the wheel and if you had your way, you'd be too. The wheel will keep on rolling, you on top, then them on top. You think violence is going to stop that?"

"Yeah cuz I was gon crush them so bad they couldn't lift their head again. You can try and bribe them but when they get chance, they gonna come and bite you in the ass."

Not familiar with expression, T'Challa stared.

"It means they gon get you later." Erik huffed.

"I have considered that. But urgency of our endeavor outweighs my doubts. Fighting evil with good may not bring immediate change but in the long run, it will prove to be the best way. Maybe you will understand my reasons better if you came with me. "

* * *

 

It was strange, being there after so long. Despite all the renovation being made, Erik still recognized the blocks of buildings and the playground, the shops on the streets and even the garbage vats. His heart ached- this was where the child in him died and Killmonger was born; it was the start of everything.

The three buildings that T'Challa had bought have been refurbished- new glass windows, fresh paint; people walking in and out of the 'Wakandan International Outreach Center'. Erik took a deep breath and trudged down the ramp.

The Royal Talon Flyer had landed on the newly built heliport outside the basketball court; the then deserted court would be filled by the shouts of joy of the children who played ball there. T'Challa had left it untouched considering their merriment. Erik felt the corner of his eyes sting but it wasn't the bright lights; the afternoon sun was soft on his features. With his usual composed demeanor, the King led them to the main complex.

In the reception Nakia awaited them. Her face lit up as she saw the party approach.

"Wam Kumkani."

"Nakia." T'Challa acknowledged. It was common knowledge the king was involved with the director of Social Outreach program but one wouldn't know from the formal manner in which they greeted each other. Erik wondered how T'Challa could be so unaffected around the girl; Nakia was exceedingly beautiful, not to mention incredibly quick-witted. He could see (Y/N) in her- no he wouldn't think about her.

"N'Jadaka." Nakia was civil. Erik let it slide; he didn't have anything personal against the former war dog. She proceeded to salute rest of their company.

"You would not believe how many appeals have been made, my king." Nakia said as she led them to the elevator. The Wakandan architecture was evident in every floor. "Women calling for assistance against domestic violence, children without homes, gang disputes. It is worse than I had thought."

"It is alarming yes. But keep working with them."

"I will. I have already organized some awareness programs; we have many activists and scholars volunteering. Many students have gotten involved too- they have been raising funds and carrying out most of the outreach endeavors. We haven't got the permission to rent the office on 17th. The Mayor's Office is refusing to sanction the enclosure. There's some dirty hands at play, I am suspecting."

"Ya think?" Erik snickered. The others disregarded him and T'Challa continued his inspection.

"I will have a talk with the Mayor."

"Thank you. I'd also request you to increase our security. We have had propositions from some offering to buy our vibranium equipments. We refused of course. Then we had a break-in last Sunday. Nothing was taken but I'm guessing it's the buyers we have spurned. I'm afraid these people do not take no for an answer."

"I will see what I can do."

Nakia ended the tour in canteen where they sat down to dine. All this while Erik hand't spoken a word; it wasn't he was displeased. On the contrary he was quite impressed with everything he had seen; T'Challa had certainly thought this through. Erik could already see the changes in the lives of people around here, some of whom who had grown up with him. It made him feel lonelier than his grand cage in Wakanda; the realization that he had been wrong and despite T'Challa's naivety, the king was on the right path. Erik only learnt it at cost of several lives.

"This was where you lived." T'Challa stated as they took the familiar turn at the stairs. Though the two of them hadn't been on good terms since the older man brought (Y/N) to Wakanda, it was a promising that the fragile truce formed between them had unexpectedly endured. Several memories popped up in Erik's mind- running down the same flight of stairs, dripping his new ball, his mom calling behind him, telling him to get home before dark, him running in wobbly steps, anxious after seeing the blue lights vanishing into the clouds.

"The room had to be renovated- it's quarters for volunteers now." T'Challa declared as one of the wardens unlocked the door- a new one; it opened smoothly. "We are staying here for the night."

When Erik did not respond, T'Challa understood he had gone too far. "We may stay in any other place if it is uncomfortable for you."

"Nah it's cool." Erik shrugged it off and walked across the room; his legs were jelly as he stood right where his father lay lifeless. He sucked in a breath and held himself rigidly; he knew how to compartmentalize.

Much to his pleasure, T'Challa left him alone. For whatever faults he had, the older man understood how important it was to allow one their own space. He had reached out to Erik even when he didn't owe him anything. He neither demanded nor expected; that was probably why he was startled when Erik bade him good night. After exchanging an awkward smile, both of them retired, feeling lighter in heart than before.

Erik was gone when T'Challa woke up in the morning; his kimoyo beads were turned off.


	8. Chapter 8

In the vestibule of the center, T'Challa paced back and forth. The entire building was in uproar. Everyone around him high and low to find the missing prince. The police have been alerted and all security footages were being scrutinized. The former black operative knew how to disappear- the building security cameras showed him leaving in the tape but the cameras on the street showed nothing. In between half a mile walk, he had vanished.

Internally, T'Challa kicked himself. He had been a fool, a sentimental, naïve fool. He had let his emotion cloud his judgment; instead of heeding those who could decide objectively, he had gone with his heart. He didn't want to think about the catastrophic consequence that was impending; at the moment, he needed to focus on finding his cousin.

"Kumkani."

T'Challa turned. "Anything Okoye?"

"Akukho wam kumkani. We have scoured the entire block- there is no sign of him."

T'Challa smacked his lips in frustration. It was six hours since Erik was gone; he could have crossed the state by then. "We have to look out for the public transit. I will talk to Ross. We could use CIA's surveillance now."

"Should we alert the Hatut Zeraze?"

"Not yet. I'm hoping Shuri can locate him before it gets out of hand."

Shuri called a minute later. She was the only one in Wakanda to be informed.

"I'm sorry brother but I cannot locate him. All the tracking devices are off."

"Can't you hack into them and turn them on?"

"It has to be done manually so, no I can't. He probably have taken it out and destroyed it."

"What about his kimoyo beads?"

"Also turned off. He may have ditched it already."

"He must have. Bast, how could he get the trackers off? They were in his body."

"He was in SEALs and also has a degree from MIT. I don't think disabling some trackers posed much problem for him."

T'Challa sighed. "Keep trying; see if you can come up with anything. Keep me posted."

"Will do, brother."

* * *

 

Erik Stevens stood in front of humongous building in one of the most well-to-do part of San Francisco. The ten stories high apartment rose opposite of a beautiful, well-tended park with a penthouse on top, housing the most well prosperous and selfish people of the city; a digital lock secured the main entrance. With hood pulled low over his eyes, Erik leaned against its wall, biding his time. He had already checked the names of occupiers- there was (Y/L/N) in the 6th floor.

Not much later a man came out- one of those immaculately dressed uber-busy managers who looked nowhere but the screen of their phone. He got into the car that had arrived to pick him a little while before. With him driving away marked the start of the office hours. As the day progressed, more of the residents ventured out of their nest, none bothering to give Erik a glance.His wrist was bleeding from where he had curved out the tracker. He should be at a safe house till it was safe to defect but there he was, risking his only chance of escape to see remnant of his failed past.

Finally one elderly woman with a handbag too small to hold anything came trotting to the door, intending to go in. Erik moved a bit closer so he could watch with precision. The women pressed the codes- four beeps later the door opened. When she had gone, Erik appeared before the machine and punched the exact buttons.

He found the same lady in the elevator who had paused having noticed him and held the door, apparently under impression that Erik was going to avail it.

"Come come." She called out to Erik who had changed his mind and was seeking the stairs. Without any word he stepped inside and the elevator door slid shut.

"Where are you going?" She asked soon as they started to go up.

"6th." Erik answered curtly.

"What a coincidence! I too am going to 6th. I saw you waiting outside too."

"I was waiting for my girlfriend to buzz me in." He replied promptly.

"Oh of course!"

Erik gave a polite smile; he wouldn't bother normally but she seemed to be a talkative one and a smile was necessary to show he wasn't interested to converse. The woman took the hint and stood a little away from him. The elevator came to halt with a ding and both passengers got out. With a gentle smile, the lady wished him good day and disappeared down the hall.

Steadying his unnaturally fast heart, Erik went on to find apartment 7C. He found himself before the sought door soon but could not bring himself to ring the bell. He felt his arm was restricted by some invisible strings; his heart too had started to thrum so strong that it might tear his chest and leap out.

Erik exhaled to calm his nerves. She was just a woman. But not the one he had known, his conscience whispered. The memory of her spurning him was still fresh in his mind; it was all he thought for the last couple of days. He had never imagined she could walk away from him; whatever claim he had on her had been revoked when he had pulled the trigger. It was hard to believe, he had her wrapped around his fingers once, one who risked her life trying to get back him, not the cold, distant woman she had become. What had he done to her?

With trembling fingers he pressed the bell and a metallic chime rang behind the door. Soon voices were heard- a man and a woman. Who was it with her? Roy? The thought churned his stomach- that nigga was till there? He heard footsteps eventually and they stopped just on the other side of the door, the host no doubt peeking through the eye hole. Next came her voice, low and urgent. Erik waited with baited breath; chances are the door may never open. She would have the security throw him out.

To his surprise the door opened and (Y/N) stepped out wearing a pink house coat and a cold countenance. Through the crack of the door, Erik noticed a handsome man eyeing them. (Y/N) closed the door and peered up at him.

"I thought I was clear when I said I don't want to see you again ever."

Instead of the apology he had prepared in his head, Erik found himself demanding, "We need to talk."

"No we don't. Everything that needed to be said has been said so you better get outta here before I call the security. I'll also have a talk with your cousin; I thought we had an agreement."

"T'Challa didn't send me."

"Good for him. I still don't want you to be here."

"I don't wanna be here but I am, ain't I? I just wanted to say-"

"What could you possibly have to say? That you are sorry? That you glad I'm alive? Save yo'self the trouble...I had known you long enough, unfortunately, to know everything that comes outta yo mouth is bullshit. I have a permanent mark on my stomach to remind me exactly why I should have ditched yo ass a long time ago."

(Y/N) wasn't going to stop but judging by the odd stares she was receiving from her neighbors, she exhaled. Wetting her lips, she looked away.

"I'm sorry." Erik said eventually, eyes downcast.

"Yeah right. You can try playing me all you want Killmonger but I've learnt your tricks by now. I've done what I promised and I need to get back to my life and I suggest you do the same. Consider this your final warning- don't ever try to contact me again. If you do, I'll get a restraining order and if you don't stop at that, I know many people who'd love to know about your whereabouts. Is that clear? Good. Get out."

Before he could open his mouth again, the door was banged shut. Vexed by her behavior, Erik punched the door. It only hurt his knuckles and he shoved his fists inside his pockets and turned on his heels.

The lady from before was again in the elevator and she too was going down.

"What an odd day!" She remarked when Erik stepped in.

Odd indeed, he thought to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N: Thanks to everyone who have waited patiently and have put up with my mediocre writing. Yall braver than the us marine


	9. Chapter 9

T'Challa was in the middle of video call with Akili when the doors suddenly burst open and Erik charged in like an angry bull. Behind him two doras followed, apologizing profusely. They couldn't catch up with the prince as he strode determinately toward T'Challa and threw a tablet right on his desk.

"Kumkani?"

"I will have to postpone the call Akili." T'Challa said. "We will discuss this later."

"Certainly, my king."

The hologram dissolved to reveal Erik snarling in front of T'Challa. He glanced at the live screen on his desk and glanced up. "Leave us." He instructed the doras.

"Is any of this true?"

T'Challa peered up from the screen he had been swiping. In a tight voice he replied, "Yes."

The affirmation shook Erik to the core. His mouth went dry- no, no, this can't be...

"How much of it?"

"All of it." T'Challa confirmed.

Erik took a step back, almost tripping as he did. He shook his head like a madman; pure shock and disbelief pronounced in his features. That one word had robbed him of his breath; he felt like his throat was being squeezed, crushing his windpipe. He was falling but he couldn't grab on to anything- his limbs were paralyzed.

"You might want to sit down Erik." T'Challa got up to assist him. Erik pushed him away, tumbling as he tried to back away.

"Nah....this ain't true."

"It is." T'Challa said tentatively.

"No it's not." Erik snarled like a provoked beast. "It's all made up. She's lying. I know she is."

"Erik-"

"Get off me man!" He violently swatted T'Challa's hand away. No, no, no he kept mumbling to himself as he threw haphazard punches at wall. It alarmed the guards who appeared with reinforcements. T'Challa bade them to leave.

"I ain't no father." Erik kept saying.

"You might want to sit down Erik-"

"C'm on cuz." Erik laughed, perhaps to disperse the fear that was taking hold of him. "You got a brain. I leave her and she's conveniently pregnant?

"Cousin please, calm yourself."

"That ain't my kid" Erik snarled, growing angrier. "She been making it all up, that lying bitch."

"You shouldn't call her by such derogatory terms. She's the mother of your child." It was a wrong thing to say. Erik whipped around as though T'Challa had sprayed him with boiling water. With wild fury he flared.

"I ain't no goddamn father man! Leave me the fuck alone."

"You need some time, I understand." T'Challa stepped back. "I'm glad you came back, Erik."

Erik said nothing; he clutched his dreads, head hung low so one could not see the tears in his eyes. This had to be a trick. Some sick game, perhaps a test organized just to torment him. Since his recovery, everything seems to be going awry and he had no power to stop them. He couldn't be....this wasn't in his plan. He grunted with frustration and punched the air.

"Fuck." He hissed. Looking up he found himself alone in the room.

* * *

 

(Y/N) couldn't believe when T'Challa broke the news to her. She heard him alright but it was hard for the words to sink in. Maybe because she thought that she was safe, that everything was in the past and she can move on with her life. She let herself be rolled into ball of false security by the King's sweet words and now reality has come to ground her.

Erik knew....How could he? She had done everything to hide; there was no way he could know unless....unless T'Challa himself told him.

"How?" Her voice shook as she spoke into the phone. "How did he find out?"

"Your neighbor told him. The rest he found out on his own."

"Of course he did." (Y/N) snorted. Trust Killmonger to fuck everything up.

"You must be careful, (Y/N)?"

"Careful?" She mocked. "I was careful. I had done everything to forget him. I was happy, I was safe, I was rebuilding my life after he destroyed it and you had to come along and bring that murderer back to my life. Now because of you I might lose my child."

"You will not lose your child, you have my word." T'Challa tried to pacify but in vain. His words made her flare like gasoline poured in fire.

"You gave me your word that it had to do just one thing and I can bury the whole affair. You told me Erik will never reach me again so not only you've failed at that, you've also led him to Nubia, the person who gets hurt the most."

"(Y/N) I did not lead Erik to Nubia."

"No but you did not hold him back. You were supposed to keep him on leash. You were supposed to protect everyone from him! I don't know how yall do it in Wakanda but when someone tries to kill you, you stay the hell away from their life." She hissed. She knew she was talking to a king but at the moment all her self-restraint was gone; all she cared about was her child's safety. At the other end, T'Challa sighed.

"I'm sorry. It was tactless of me but it is done now. I wanted to warn you to be on your guards should my cousin try anything. Meanwhile, I will talk to him."

(Y/N) cut off the line without bidding farewell. She tossed the phone aside and picked up Nubia from her crib. The one year old infant looked up to her mother with her dark twinkling eyes, tiny hands reaching for her fingers. Nubia had no trace of the monster in her features. She was sweet, plump and angelic. A bundle of sunshine she had gone through the worst to bring her to life. A wave of warmth and affection rushed through (Y/N) but was soon drowned by the sense of dread filling her breast.

"I'll keep you safe darling." She caressed the baby's soft skin. "Mama will always keep you safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. Phew. Hope everyone enjoyed it. Quick question- if you were in her shoes, would you let Erik see your child?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N: I'm finally back! Phew...god I'm so glad that is over. Here you go. Reward for your patience.

In the privacy of his room Erik permitted himself to break down. They were back in Birnin Zana, their tour cut short following his escapade. His actions warranted consequences but it was far from his mind. He didn't care if they curtailed his freedom; his mind was preoccupied. T'Challa too hadn't shown any inclination to vindicate him. rather the king left him to his own thoughts. He flopped on to the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. His legs had given out after pacing around the room for a while and he just wished for his brain to shut down. The golden sunlight streaming through the reinforced glass hampered that but Erik couldn't bring himself to utter a single command so the AI can draw the blinds.

There was tenseness to his muscles that added to the throes of a throbbing headache amplified by a sleepless night. He wished to slip into a dreamless sleep but his brain was a violent whirl of chaos. He forced himself to lie still hoping it'd bring sleep to his tired lids but nothing happened. Even the smallest sound gave him an acute jolt of irritation. Damn that woman. He should have shot her right in the heart.

Then why couldn't you?- a voice in his brain wondered. Erik didn't think on it. It was something he had wondered ever since. He, who had never doubted his actions before, had been dissecting every explanation his mind could conjure. With frustration he realized he was slipping into the same black hole of regret. In the end he made himself get up and retrieve the small box of sleeping pills. There were only two- they had made sure to restrict his allowance so he couldn't overdose himself.

A few days later he had an invitation to a state dinner. Erik would have skipped in normal circumstances but his chaotic brain needed a distraction. He groomed himself accordingly, focusing entirely on the little task at hand to drown the cold eyes of (Y/N) emerging in his conscience.

Quite a few heads turned his way when Erik entered the atrium. The crowd was dispensed heterogeneously, people flocking together with drinks in their hand talking casually. Servants meandered through them serving drinks and food from salver and at the far end of the dais was a band playing some tribal tune. A table near it was occupied by the Tanzanian President on whose honor the banquet was organized. T'Challa with his innate charm and unforced suavity was entertaining the elderly man. Before Erik could look away, T'Challa caught his eye but unlike before, he made no acknowledgement and went back to converse with the guest of honor.

Erik took his cue and approached the bar hoping some alcohol will make the time pass faster. He intended to stay a while only for the sake appearance and when opportunity presented itself, slip out. He got bored soon- the conversations were too bland for his liking and people around him could hold his attention for so long. They were apprehensive around him and at best, aloof. Erik hadn't won any allies during his stay. The bar served nothing strong; finally, for the lack of better entertainment, Erik turned around his seat and started watching the band play. The lead singer was tolerable but it was the woman working the cello caught his attention. He focused on the quick movements of her fingers, trying to imagine what else they could do. It was hard to keep the fantasy alive; he hadn't had a lay in a long time. Perhaps he had lost his touch in everything.

The musical piece ended with strong applause and after receiving thanks, the musicians made their way to the bar. Keeping his eyes on the girl, Erik got up but before he could pounce on his prey, a certain girl with braided up-do blocked his vision.

"Enjoying much?" Shuri asked, twirling the umbrella of her drink.

"I was." Erik replied and tried to look past his cousin. Scowling, Shuri followed his line of vision.

"Ooh I see. It's a shame though. She doesn't swing your way."

It was Erik's turn to scowl.

"What? We Wakandans aren't so backwards like you Americans."

Erik didn't reply. He hadn't really noticed it perhaps because no one treated it like it was some big deal. It didn't change anything. Erik had his share of male bedmates.

"So..." He broke his silence eventually. "Do you swing that way too?"

"Ugh typical." Shuri rolled her eyes. "You people really need abandon that stereotype but yeah, I swing that way."

"Oh." Erik had to admit his response was quite dumb.

"By the way, I got some new things to show you."

Shuri's lab was one of his favorite haunts. It was something that gave them a common ground and before long their dynamic had changed from grudging enemies to grudging friends.

"I developed a new update for the handwriting to text app. It's smaller in size and works in every operating system. I also added the 'recognize language' feature. I'll have the linguists work for all languages. Look it works from the Kimoyo beads too."

She tapped one of the beads and it projected a faint light indicating the action of scanning.

"See?" She showed him the result with a smug smile. "Cool right?"

"Mm. What's that for?" He pointed at a small button on the bracelet.

"Oh that? I had attached dad's old screen to it. It used to open like today's laptop on his bracelet but we replaced it by holograms. I wanted to see if I can incorporate a solid screen with nanotechnology."

"Amazing."Erik remarked as Shuri switched it on. She held up her wrist in front of his face as though she was recording.

"So...you are the father."

"What?" Erik asked, dumbfounded.

"It's from that American show called Maury that goes 'you are not the father' or 'you are the father'." She adjusted the resolution, focusing on Erik again. "Erik Stevens, you are the father."

"Don't." Erik warned, the momentary elation disappearing within a second. Shuri too have sensed she had crossed a line and shut it off. They were saved from further awkwardness as T'Challa interrupted them.

"Mother has been looking everywhere for you Shuri , the feast has started."

"Okay brother." She was off with any protests. Once she was out of sight, T'Challa turned to Erik.

"Has Shuri been pestering with her 'updates' again?"

"Not anymore than usual. What do you think of the president?"

"A bit self-assured. He is convinced he will remain in power forever."

"He hasn't been watching the news has he?"

T'Challa hummed motioning him to walk ahead. He paused a while before asking, "How are you holding up?"

Real peachy, he wanted to snap for someone who just found out he had a child half way across the world but Erik didn't say so. Though being at his wit's end, he was no longer angry.

"I don't what to do about it."

"Of course. Give it time and maybe your heart will present you with the right answer. But I'm glad to have you among us again."

"I ain't here for long, just today. Came by to see how yall doing."

"That is unfortunate. I was hoping to have a word with you concerning something official. Maybe tomorrow morning?"

To his surprise, Erik agreed quite easily.

"Very well then. Come now cousin. The feast awaits us."

The banquet concluded at the dawn next morning. Erik found T'Challa red-eyed and tired in his office. Erik himself had managed to sneak off to get some sleep.

"Morning cuz." He said airily, dropping down on the chair opposite the King. "Pulled another all-nighter?"

"Afraid so. I have just sent off the President. I hope he retains the good mood when he lands. We have a rocky journey ahead of us." He paused to stifle a yawn.

"What do you wanna talk about?"

"Our war dogs in Nairobi recovered this-" T'Challa flicked the screen projected by his kimoyo beads to send the files to Erik's own. "You were in the military. I was hoping you could shed some light upon this."

Erik flicked through the cryptic codes. "You gonna trust me with these? What if I decide to escape again?"

"You won't." T'Challa replied with conviction.

"I did last time."

"And you came back."

"That's cuz...fuck. You really warped in the head for taking chances with me. I could be selling these right under yo nose."

"It's not chances Erik, mere calculations just. You will be working on this with Okoye. The council has revoked your freedom so I can no longer bring you with me. I'm giving you a way. I am leaving for DC tomorrow. I expect you will have a lead for me when I return."

It was dismissal but Erik hung back, torn between wanting to burst and flee. "You talk to her yet?"

T'Challa met his eyes with hesitance. "No. I am still waiting for you."

Erik slouched back to the seat, biting his inner cheek.

"Have you decided if you want to see your daughter at least?"

"I don't know man. I ain't know nothing 'bout no kids. Fuck I ain't supposed to have no kids. Even (Y/N)-" He stammered while uttering her name. "She never wanted no babies she told me and then suddenly she's got one sucking on her tits. It don't add up."

T'Challa let him vent without interruption.

"You know, maybe it's good that she don't wanna do nothing with me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Oh c'm on look at. Man I ain't no father. I ain't even the kind any sane people wanna be with let alone raise a kid. I got nothing to give- I'm a goddamn prisoner, I got no home, no cash, nothing. Who'd want someone like that? Nah. And if she's my kid then she's got my killer genes too. Maybe she'll turn out to be like me." He finished bitterly.

"Are you regretting your actions?"

The reminder of his past jolted him to sanity. "Nah. Just regretting not wearing a condom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Nubia is named after Diana's twin sister. She too have held the title of Wonder Woman.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What up yall? How was your week? I've another chapter to soothe your pain if it was too hectic.

At first (Y/N) couldn't figure what exactly was making her uneasy.

She was in the UN Security council conference, surrounded by hundreds of people- head of the states, delegates, and the press. It wasn't her first time here, not even the first time this year. Accompanied by her own small entourage, she was representing her branch. The navy blue power suit she was wearing was making her sweat profusely under her collar. The enormous consultation room didn't have sufficient ventilation. Though the ceiling was at least twenty foot high but with too many people inside it, (Y/N) felt like she was in a goddamn lit boiler.

She looked around herself; the consistent flash of camera made it hard to focus on anything. She was seated in the peripheral row which formed a three quarter of a circle around the main table. It was chaired by the US President occupying the head of the table, his massive girth overflowing his seat. He was engaged in an animated with the stony-faced Chinese President; his dancing hands a stark contrast to the rigidness of the other leader. The press stationed in front of them was snapping pictures eager to capture the slightest change in degree of hand movement. Then suddenly everything changed. The murmur increased tenfold and the camera turned around, shifting their focus on the entrance. There was T'Challa, striding in with his escort- the usual doras. He looked regal in his black suit paired with a vibrant scarf around his neck. (Y/N) hoped the press had got some snaps of the grim face of the American President as the King of Wakanda strode in.

(Y/N) shuffled in her seat. She hadn't heard from T'Challa in a month and seeing him in flesh and blood suddenly made her heart beat faster. At least Killmonger wasn't with him. For a split second she thought she saw the King looking her way. He probably hadn't noticed her seeing that he walked over to the other leaders to greet them. (Y/N) shrunk into her seat, suddenly very eager to leave.

The assembly began soon after. The Secretary-General opened the conference by stating the resolutions. The discussion then moved on to topic of the ongoing civil unrest in Yemen and the budget allowance for the upcoming peace-keeping missions. Finally T'Challa rose from his seat with elegance and dignity befitting a king and addressed the council. Soon as he had finished his statement regarding his stand in the current state of affairs, he was immediately seized by thousand questions directed at him.

"Your Highness, what do you think about French interference in your outreach program in Uganda? Will you retaliate?"

"King T'Challa is it true that you are sheltering war criminals like the Winter Soldier?"

"What is Wakanda hiding?"

"Do you not think Wakanda should give the world access to your vibranium reserve?"

"We have given as much access the world would need." T'Challa responded. "If the world needs further aid, of course we will give them."

"But isn't it unfair how you get to keep the principal amount because the only source of vibranium is Wakanda?"

"Unfair how?"

"You can control how much you want to share and the world has to depend upon your generosity."

"There are so many faults in your statement. Of course we guard vibranium because it is from Wakanda. That is the way with world- everyone guards their own resources and when in need, shares them. Many countries have to import petroleum oil because they do not have their own. Isn't that same?"

The reporter wouldn't still back down. "It is not. Vibranium guarantees your superior technologies. You cannot blame us if we must fear if some day you decide to wipe us out."

"And yet no such endeavor was ever taken. But if I remember my lessons correctly, haven't your people enslaved ours for hundreds of years?"

(Y/N) takes the back door to exit the conference hall to avoid the throng of crowd at the entrance. The wide corridor was suddenly wide enough for the crowd and (Y/N) found herself squeezed while navigating through the currant. She found a quiet corner and pulled her associates aside to wait for the crowd to thin. It did eventually. The media was led away by the guards to allow the leaders to exit. Walking through the exit was T'Challa flanked by his guard.

(Y/N) was quick to turn but not quick enough. Their eyes locked this time for certain and before long, T'Challa had excused himself from the Russian President and was striding towards (Y/N).

"Miss (Y/L/N)."

"Your highness." (Y/N)'s acknowledgement was colder than she wished it to be. Her associates were bewildered, looking at each other for explanation. (Y/N) wished they weren't here or rather, she weren't here.

"How have you been?"

"As well as it can be expected but thank you. I hope everyone in Wakanda is well too."

"They are."

"That is good to hear. Well I shouldn't keep you." (Y/N) made to leave but T'Challa held her back, barring her with his words.

"There is something we must discuss."

"No there isn't. I have already made my stance clear. I do not want to be associated with him anymore."

"Not even if he is willing to see her?"

"Did he say he want to see her?"

"I will confess he wasn't keen at first but he was come to terms with it. He wants to see her, to see how it goes. If you will-"

"No!"

"But he is her father-"

"Doesn't matter. He isn't coming anywhere near Nubia."

"You will keep your daughter from knowing her father?" T'Challa asked, trace of fury slipping in his tone.

"Yes. He forfeited his fatherhood a long time even if he didn't know it. Nubia is my daughter first. I won't let my child be associated with a monster. As far as she is concerned, I'm her only parent and I'll raise her to be everything Killmonger is not."

"I understand your motherly instincts but it does not alter the fact that Nubia is of royal blood."

"I don't care!" (Y/N) shook her head in frenzy. It felt like the steering wheel was being ripped away from her grip. "Nubia is mine and I won't let anyone take her away from me!"

They had drawn a crowd around them. People were staring and murmuring among themselves and if it weren't for the fierce women warriors they would have kept lingering. (Y/N) bade her bewildered colleagues to leave without her while she used the break to calm herself down.

"It's not fair." She said eventually, wiping a drop of tear that had escaped her eye.

"I understand. But hard as it may to be believed, Erik is recovering. He has started acknowledge his wrong-doings. It's an important step toward reformation. If you'd see him, I dare say you will find him a different man. Perhaps if you'd permit him, it will bring that change faster."

"I can't. It's not my job fixing him. I don't owe him anything."

"No you do not. But this is no longer about the two of you. Think of your daughter."

With that T'Challa left her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N: In my defense- I really don't have any defense. I'm terribly sorry for taking this long and I deserve every shit yall throw me. I hope this makes it up.

Erik had never been claustrophobic but the elevator ride was making him tense. He couldn't breathe and the walls seemed to be closing around them; it was just his imagination but Erik almost reached out to stop the walls from trapping them both. His mind was foggy- a jumble of various thoughts and apprehensions that translated into nervousness in his body language. He was sweating profusely and that did not go unnoticed by his cousin.

"Are you alright cousin?" T'Challa asked.

Erik cleared his throat and nodded. Why did he let T'Challa rope him into this? It wasn't even his plan. Hell he didn't know if he wanted to do something about but that infuriating cousin of his has gone ahead to take matters into in his own hand, again. Erik had gone ballistic when T'Challa had broken the news that (Y/N) had agreed to see him. He had lashed out, banging his fist down with such a loud thump that the impact sent a clay figurine roll off the desk and prompted the guards to raise their spears. He had to be tackled to be kept from punching the king square in the face all the while screaming for the death of his entire family.

It had taken the Black Panther a week to coax him to speak to him and another to agree on the meaning. Erik didn't see why T'Challa was so invested in this. What was in it for him? Nonetheless he had agreed. Maybe seeing her will make him see things clearer.

And now the meeting was confirmed and there was no way to stall it despite Erik wanting it to. It was happening in a hotel in San Francisco- (Y/N) refused to fly from US stating if Erik needed he must come down. It was a power move on her side which was yet to be answered by Erik.

The elevator reached the selected floor and opened with a soft chime. Erik was glad to be in the open air once again and he breathed a lungful, an attempt to calm his nerves. Both of them wore suits but it was Erik not the Wakandan who was uncomfortable in the formal attire. Erik hated it but wore it nonetheless- it was attempt at showing he was no longer the bloody assassin and that he was willing to try.

The suite they rented was a large and airy penthouse with a commodious lounge furnished with avant-garde fittings, an extensive floor to ceiling glass window separating the air-conditioned room from the corrupted world outside. Erik unbuttoned his blazer and flopped down on the comfy couch that circled the glass table, legs spread apart like he had no care for anything; no one could suspect the turmoil that raged inside him. The Doras stood guard while T'Challa walked around and eventually stopped at the bar where he unscrewed a champagne bottle. The cap went off with a muted pop into his palm and he poured a generous amount of it. With the flute of champagne in one hand, he approached.

"Here drink this."

Erik felt like a child but he accepted. He took one sip and put it down- somehow it didn't feel right. T'Challa of course saw through the entire façade.

"If you would-"

"Nigga if you say another word imma deck you in the head." Erik hissed. He heard Okoye grunt in annoyance but he was too absorbed in his own thoughts to bite back.

Sometime later when Erik was about to call it quits, T'Challa announced (Y/N) was here.

She wore a red dress paired with a leather jacket. Erik hadn't noticed this before but (Y/N) had dark circles under her eyes. The light was gone and in its place was cold formality that sent shivers down his spine. He had often imagined the reason for her health's deterioration was because she still wanted him but now he knew. Following (Y/N) was a lithe and coltish looking white man, dark, patient eyes hidden behind narrow frame. He looked Erik's way and much to his credit held the gaze while (Y/N) completely ignored him. She greeted T'Challa and the guards. Okoye even returned her an acknowledging smile that thrice damned bald bitch.

There was however no child with them. Erik looked at his cousin for any explanation but the king had gone ahead to greet the guests.

"Ms. (Y/L/N), I'm glad you came."

(Y/N) grunted and gave a tight lipped smile which everyone overlooked given the tense situation. Then her eyes fell upon him.

"Killmonger." She said icily.

"Hello (Y/N)." He paused, wondering if he should extend his hand but decided against it. "It's good to see you."

"Is it? Can't say the same for me though."

Erik's jaw tightened but it was her new beau who held (Y/N) back, placing a steadying hand on the small of her back. The effect he had on her made Erik hate the guy even more. Jim his name was, Erik gathered from the conversation. He also gathered that the meeting was test to see if he should meet the child.

The formalities took another ten minutes. T'Challa did his best to dissipate the tension but one look at (Y/N) told Erik she was here to fight. Was she feeling as jittery as he was, Erik thought. Probably not. She had the high ground this time. He had to tread carefully- he was walking on a mine field. Then suddenly it was time for them to talk. T'Challa led away the Doras whom (Y/N) had dismissed quite surprisingly. It figured- (Y/N) was always a private person. She looked at Jim and gave him a smile.

"I'll be right outside." Jim assured, squeezing her hand. They had an understanding among each other that Erik came to envy immediately. Jim followed out the rest of them, glancing back like the wimp he was. Then suddenly for the first time, they were alone.

"What happened to Roy?"

"We have separated." (Y/N) replied calmly.

"Oh.This one seems nice. I always knew you loved white cock more." It was supposed to lighten the mood but (Y/N) took it literally. She snarled like a feral beast, eyes smoldering with hatred but caught herself in the right moment.

"Typical." She spat, circling around the room and sitting down on the settee with her arms crossed, certain rigidity to her countenance. Erik decided it'd be a mistake to goad her further. Adjusting his blazer, he settled opposite to her. The flute of champagne was still unfinished.

"I din't know you was pregnant." He said eventually. The thought had occupied his every waking hour. How long had she been pregnant at the time? She didn't show neither did she hint at it. Had he known would it have changed anything?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Cuz I didn't know myself." (Y/N) replied, her voice deceptively calm. "At first."

"So you knew when I was running 'bout with Klaue?"

"Yes."

Erik exhaled loudly. "And you still din't tell me nothing. Why?"

"I wasn't gonna keep it. It wasn't supposed to happen."

"But you kept it."

(Y/N) nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

"You told me you wanted no kids but you kept it." Erik still remembered that conversation. "Why?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably.

"Nah you don't get to make that choice. Tell my why."

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" (Y/N) had sprung up from her seat, her body trembling with electrifying tension. Erik slapped his knee in frustration but restrained himself before he did something extreme.

(Y/N) sat down eventually, turning away to face the city outside. Erik was seething; he snatched the glass and gulped down the champagne.

"How far was you when I shot you?" He asked it as if it was some casual everyday thing.

"Two and half." (Y/N) muttered.

"I coulda killed it." Erik clutched his dreads. Fuck.

"Yes. You almost did."

"Fuck. Fuck! And you didn't tell me nothing?"

"And if did, what would you have done?" (Y/N) flared, meeting his eyes for the first and the longest time. "Would you not have pulled the trigger? Would you have changed your ways?"

Would he? Erik didn't know anymore. It never came to that.

"No you wouldn't have. You'd still shoot me. Maybe not to kill but enough to cripple me. Then you'd have left us. That's what you'd have done. Tell me I'm wrong. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong."

Erik lowered his gaze for she was true. Maybe he would have come around later but he had everything had stake then.

"See? It doesn't matter you knew then or not. All that mattered to you was your mission. It's simple as this. I wasn't supposed to have this child but I did. End of story."

"But it isn't end, is it?"

"What do you want Erik?"

"I wanna know why you'd keep it from me even after you knew I was alive."

"Why would I? Look at you Erik. You are a contractual killer. You lead a failed revolution; you tried to kill your own cousin. Why would I let you meet my daughter?"

"That's rich coming from." Erik sneered, feeling rage fire up his veins. "The way I remember it, you wasn't no small killer, was you? Nah you killed. You worked for killers. What makes you different than me?"

"Humanity. I still got some of it left unlike you. But it doesn't matter. I'm the mother and I won't let my child be associated with a monster like you. As far as Nubia is concerned, I'm her only parent and I'll raise her to be everything you are not."

"That don't even make sense."

"I don't care. She is my daughter first. I gave birth to her. I raised her all alone while you had been gallivanting around the globe terrorizing innocent people."

"So you won't let me see my kid?"

"It's just one of your sperm. You wouldn't miss it."

The taunt hurt like bitch and Erik balled his fists, ready to strike.

"See? You can't even control your temper. You still wanna see her knowing the type of person you are?"

Erik didn't want to think. No he wanted to hurt something, someone. "So you gonna keep her from me?"

"Yes." (Y/N) said without hesitation.

"You gonna regret saying that." Erik threatened.

"Careful Killmonger. You are walking on very thin ice." She gave him a warning look and got up, heading for the door.

"Tell me something." Erik's called behind her. (Y/N) stopped abruptly.

"If I hadn't found out, would you have told me I had a kid?"

(Y/N) thought for a second. Then without turning said, "No." With that she walked out.

It took T'Challa one glance at Erik to know he had blown it.


	13. Chapter 13

Soon as she exited the room, (Y/N) was seized by an extremely concerned Jim asking what had happened.

"Did he hurt you?" He sounded alarmed. "Did he?"

(Y/N) didn't answer but kept striding with firm determination toward the elevator, the click of her heels echoing in the empty corridor. She dashed past the Doras who jumped aside to let her pass, looking at their king for orders. She was vehemently seething. This had been a mistake. An absolute fucking blunder is what it was. The elevator was taking too long to come up and in blinding fury, (Y/N) jabbed the button repeatedly in frustration.

"Hey hey. It's okay." Jim was immediately by her side, catching her wrist. "Talk to me."

"Later." (Y/N) muttered.

Both of them got into the elevator without furthering the conversation. Just when she was about to press the button, she heard her name being called. There was Killmonger running straight at her.

"(Y/N)! Wait. Please." He ran into a decorative vase and stubbed his toe, overturning the vase in accident. "Fuck...(Y/N) wait."

(Y/N) was half tempted to hit the button and she went with her gut. The doors slid shut quickly but not quick enough for Erik had halted it by putting his foot forward.

"What is wrong with you?" (Y/N) hissed, backing away to the far end.

"Just hear me out woman-" He stepped toward her but it was Jim who came to rescue, planting himself between them. Killmonger shot him a dirty look but knowing how (Y/N) saw him now, he knew better than to slight her by going at Jim.

"I'm sorry aight? I wasn't thinking shit and seeing you...look, it's my fault. I get it. I fucked it all up but don't- don't leave. You can do whatever you want, just lemme see her, just once."

In any other situation, (Y/N) would have appreciated the earnest his pleas were but not then. His desperation did little to melt (Y/N)'s heart for she knew what a trickster Killmonger was.

"I don't think so." She said curtly.

Killmonger did the unexpected then. He dropped down on his knees as though he had lost control of his own body. (Y/N) gave a yelp and jumped back, misreading his action but Erik put up his hand for assurance. "Look I know I treated you like shit but don't take this out on me, not like this. Punish me any way you want but don't take this away from me. Please."

The world seemed to stop around her. (Y/N) looked up to find everyone looking her way, each one of them waiting to see how she'd react. The humongous pressure of it weighed heavy on her heart.

"I need to see her." Erik breathed as though this was what he lived for, nothing else. "I need to see Nubia."

Nubia. Nubia. A beautiful name for her beautiful daughter. (Y/N) had scarcely held her in her breast when the baby wailed for the entire world to hear. She was red, warm and slick; her tiny mouth latched to her mother's breast when the nurse showed her. (Y/N) didn't know how to keep her quiet- she didn't know anything about a new born babe so the nurses became collective mother to her. They took turns to rock her between shifts, fed her, and kept her entertained. When (Y/N) didn't have milk in her breast, they found her new mothers who did. A Muslim woman- she had given birth to her second child- had happily taken her in. While (Y/N) lay in the bed as she recovered, the woman talked of her children, her husband and her dreams. She didn't judge knowing (Y/N) was a single mother; no, she was a sister to her. Nubia her name was. They still keep in touch.

All of it washed over her when Erik uttered that name. It sounded different in his lips, (Y/N) didn't know how. Was she making a mistake? Was this really in Nubia's interest or she was just enriching her ego, using Nubia as an excuse? That's stupid- she chastised herself. Nubia would understand when she grows up. She'll know what exactly Killmonger was. But was it her decision to make?

"Okay." It didn't feel like it was her but it sounded alike.

"Okay?"

"Okay." (Y/N) mumbled, pressing a hand to her chest to stop the intense swell of emotion developing in her rapidly. "Okay."

"Okay." Killmonger echoed, clasping his hands like he had been granted the greatest boon. He jumped to his feet, wheeling around to seek out his cousin and shooting him a childlike victory smile. "Thanks. I ain't gon take this for granted."

"On my terms." (Y/N) said curtly.

"Anything." Killmonger agreed, displaying the unadulterated joy as though it was natural to him.

They waited in the lounge while Lucy arrived with Nubia. (Y/N) had insisted they remained behind should anything happen. In truth she didn't want to bring her in the first place but that ship had sailed. Nubia was here clinging to Jim's sister, wearing a hooded, woolen romper with panda ears. With twinkling eyes behind her curly lashes, she took in her surroundings.

(Y/N) heard a sharp intake of breath- it was Killmonger. He stood frozen, mouth hanging, every ounce of focus on the little girl who flapped her hands, totally unaware of the significance she bore. Giving Lucy her thanks, (Y/N) took Nubia in her arms. She had the power in the room them. T'Challa gave a nod but it was with Jim's assuring touch, Inari moved. With obvious trepidation, she walked toward Killmonger who stood rooted to the spot, eye fixed on Nubia.

Killmonger's expression was unreadable when (Y/N) finally stopped in front him. Was he upset? Disappointed? Angry? But then he was down to his knees, a plea for closure inspection. (Y/N) literally felt her heart break as she set down Nubia and urged her toward Killmonger. Nubia fumbled on her steps and in an instant was in Killmonger's hands.

For a while, the two of them gazed into each other's eyes- Killmonger seeking his likeness in her and Nubia trying to commit the stranger to her memory. Letting go of one of her arm, he gingerly reached out to caress her face. To her credit, Nubia didn't cry, or flinch, at all. While she was nightmare back in home, crying all night, she was as quiet when in public. She was wary of the world as her mother taught her to be. Killmonger must have passed whatever test she had subjected him to- before long she was reaching out to him, trying to grab his beard. A small giggle escaped her toothless mouth. Jealousy instantly reared its ugly head.

"That's enough." (Y/N) announced, snatching up Nubia in a blink of an eye. A small giggle escaped Nubia's toothless mouth and she clung firmly to (Y/N)'s neck. The disappointment was clear in Killmonger's eyes and was rapidly giving rise to intense fury. (Y/N) worried he might actually lunge at her but he never did. He got up on his feet and gave a small smile to Nubia, who to her mother's annoyance waved.

"I'll see you then." He said civilly and exited the lounge. He had won the first battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...who's hyped for Captain Marvel?


	14. Chapter 14

Erik was about to slip into the newly vacated parking space behind a Mercedes sedan when a wayward Camaro abruptly dashed past him and making a flawless drift parked itself in the space Erik was eyeing. He restrained himself in time and slammed down the break. His blue Lexus came to a halt with barely a sound. Erik however felt the full effect of inertia; he almost hit his head in the steering. Craning his head out of the window he shouted out loud "motherfucker!" and flipped off the Camaro, driving off to find another parking spot.

It was near impossible to find a vacant parking place in downtown New York especially during office time. Big shot CEOs and managers were pulling up in front of tower glass building seemingly piercing the skies. Students hurried to make it to the first class and the average working people raced to catch the 10:30 subway ride. Erik parked his car in front of a hot dog stall a few blocks away from where he was supposed to be. Swallowing down his uneasiness, he stepped out into New York's escalating humidity. Erik pulled up the zipper of his jacket and set off to a brisk walk in the direction Addison and Associates.

The glass panels of the elevator gave an extensive view of the city. Erik got off on the 11th floor and continued down the foyer at the end of which was the reception. The name of the law firm was boldly plastered above. One of the receptionists, a light skinned woman was talking to lively young girl, whose long braids cascaded down her back, swaying with her little movements.

"Cousin!" Shuri exclaimed when she spotted Erik coming up. The princess of Wakanda appeared to be taller but that may be because Erik hadn't seen her for some time. Oddly enough, he had missed her irksome teases.

"What up cuz?" They did the 'Fresh Prince' handshake; the young princess had chewed his ear off till he agreed to do this each time they met.

"Thank Bast you are here. Brother has been pestering me to send Ayo for you for half an hour."

The woman mentioned appeared suddenly beside them, looking severe as ever.

"Just the traffic. Let him know I made it or the poor kitty will go mad with grief."

Ayo made disapproving 'tut' but the royal cousins disregarded her. They walked side by side searching for a plaque that read P.R. Shaw. This was the fifth lawyer he was seeking appointment with. All four before him had either declined on spot or recommended the next to him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Shuri asked him with a bit of hesitation just before they were about to step into Shaw's office. "It may not be a good idea."

"Seeing my kid's not a good idea?"

"That's not what I mean. The case will be dealt here in America and you are still using fake identity to avoid custody."

"If you think it's too much for yall, you could leave. I ain't asking nothing from yall." Erik said before opening the door.

It's been a month since Erik held his daughter for the first time and a week since he announced he'll be fighting for custody. He had felt an inexplicable connection between the two of them the moment he had laid eyes on her; as soon as he felt her, wide eyed and corporeal, he knew he couldn't bear not seeing her again. As soon as he and T'Challa were alone, he had made it known he will fight for his daughter.

His daughter. Nubia bore no resemblance to him. Her face was soft, innocent and radiant as the sun. Her soft miniature fingers had reached out to touch him, not knowing, not judging who he was. How could she be his? She was gentle, pure, trusting. Whom did she get them from? Definitely not from him. Neither from (Y/N) that was for certain for the child had nothing of her mother's headstrong and bitter traits. He would have believed she was his had he been what he was not- a decent man, a simple man, not a killer. She was his redemption, his cousin had told him, his chance to reform himself. Erik didn't know if he wanted to be reformed but he understood what he wanted.

Shuri was outside chatting with the same receptionist when Erik stepped out with Shaw after their meeting.

"I will see what I can do but I can't give you my word." The lawyer told him in the same grave tone everyone before her had. "This will come into conflict with something completely alien to us. You do realize my concern?"

"Yeah sure." Erik responded, feeling more dolorous by each second. "Thanks for everything. Imma be out of yo hair now."

"How did it go?" Shuri asked when Erik joined her.

"Same." Erik muttered. Shuri felt his dejection and had the mind to keep her enquiries to herself.

"Are you from Wakanda too?" The receptionist interrupted. Her ringing voice piqued Erik's curiosity and he met her eyes. She was quite pretty with an attractive figure and a coy smile that made her appear youthful.

"Yeah." He said and after a pause, gave her a suggestive wink that made her simper. Erik asked his company to go ahead and asked for a note pad and a pen from the receptionist who supplied the items eagerly. Erik gave back the note with '103A Richmond' scribbled on it and followed others out.

* * *

 

"You have some nerve." (Y/N) chuckled darkly, corner of her lips curling into a cruel sneer. Though appearing unperturbed as she leaned back in the conference chair she occupied, she emanated an unmistakable vibe of hostility. Her cold, hard gaze was unnerving even to a seasoned mercenary like Erik.

"I never had the lack of it." Erik retaliated.

They sat opposite of each other in a conference room, a different hotel this time. A vast 12 seater wood and steel table marked the neutral zone between two feuding individuals, neither of them willing to give up an inch of their land without war. Surprisingly the idea of deliberation was broached not by Erik but by (Y/N). She had taken the news suspiciously well. They had a civil conversation with both of their lawyers present (Shaw had confirmed a day ago she was in) through video conference and agreed to meet. T'Challa had gone back to Wakanda so it was the head of the Dora Milaje who accompanied him, or rather, kept him on leash. (Y/N) had come with a small entourage but with the exception of the lawyer, none other ultimately joined them.

Erik shouldn't have expected much though. It became instantly clear that the parley was just for assessing how determined he was.

"Yeah you never had the lack of arrogance." He heard (Y/N) say.

"I kinda recall you liked it." It was Erik's turn to hit back. It'd lead to nothing but disaster but if that's how she was gonna play, Erik was not above playing dirty.

"That's because I mistook it for confidence. You acted your part well, but then again, it's what you are good at."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

(Y/N) laughed a harmonious ring of derision that resonated around like church bell. "You really thought you could just walk in here and demand to see my child after everything?"

"Our child-" Erik interrupted. He was going to fight her for every word.

"Don't interrupt me-" (Y/N) snapped. "Whatever bullshit you have fed your cousin, it may have worked on him but you are sorely mistaken if you think I believe for a second that you want this because you genuinely care and not because it's how you gonna punish me."

Erik wouldn't deny that wasn't his intention. "So that's whatchu thinking? That I wanna with be my kid cuz I wanna get back at you?"

"Mr. Stevens, Miss (Y/L/N) please-" (Y/N)'s lawyer attempted to interrupt but that went disregarded.

"Your kid?" (Y/N) mocked.

"Yes my kid. You kept her from me you lying bitch. You ain't got no fucking right to do that." In the heat of the moment, he had sprung to his feet and he was leaning across the table, locking (Y/N) in a challenging graze. Shaw too have risen and laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

Slowly (Y/N) too rose from her seat, bringing herself level with his eyes and slowly spoke. "I had every right. I kept it from you because it was my decision and my decision alone. Did you think I'd let my child to be around a vile, cruel and a literal fiend like you? I'm the only parent Nubia has because I gave birth to her; I raised her all alone while you were gallivanting around the globe terrorizing innocent people. You think you can just waltz in here and demand her because she has your DNA? I don't think so."

"We'll see about that." Erik gritted through his teeth, his body was blazing with fury. It took all his self restraint not to lunge at her. He gripped the desk until the edge cut into his palm, the determination evident in a vein that popped on his forehead. (Y/N) snickered.

"Threatening me with court will get you nowhere. You are a fugitive here in America and with a record like yours, who do you think the court will side with?"

Erik wanted to retaliate but he had exhausted his ammunition. Shaking with fury he dropped down on the chair, dropping his head in his hands. There was truth in her words. Was he acting out of spite or genuine care for his kid? Was he even doing the right thing? Wouldn't he corrupt her with his own darkness? (Y/N) was right- he didn't deserve this.

The meeting was adjourned and both parties decided to pack up. (Y/N) however hung back, motioning her lawyer to go ahead.

"You know." Erik heard her utter and her looked up to meet (Y/N)'s eyes staring down at him. "I'll let you in a secret. I care for Nubia, I truly do and I want the best for her. But I will admit that is not why I want to keep you from her. I wanted to punish you for all you did to me so yeah, I'll never let you have the satisfaction of getting Nubia."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heard they are making a killmonger tv show...think they can get mbj to do it?


	15. Chapter 15

Erik hadn't slept all night. When the sun rose in the morning washing the streets and dark corners of alleyways with its golden light, it found the ex-marine slumped on his sofa, head reclined back and finally on his way to slumber. His fingers that had been dancing over the keys of the laptop for the past five hours have stilled on 'I' which had typed a queue of 'iiiiiiiiiii....." in the dialogue box.

The spell of drowsiness was abruptly broken by his phone chiming. Erik grunted and rubbed his forehead- the fever that had been making itself known for some days have finally won over his will. He hadn't been sick since....since he was a cadet in Annapolis. A particularly grueling training had hospitalized him with a fever. This wasn't anything like that. A mild flu like the ones he used to get in his childhood years. They were distant memories now- his mother making ginger tea for him while she berated him for not taking care of himself. Erik used to lie mute, unable to protest because of his sore throat and silently cursed her. Ironically it wasn't his mother who was cursed but he himself was.

The call he had missed was a video chat from the King of Wakanda himself. His cousin had no sense of timing. It might be mid-day in Wakanda but its barely morning here in Oakland. He had taken up residence in the outreach center where he helped out Shuri from time to time. He figured it was for the best since (Y/N) lived only a ferry ride away. (Y/N)...just thinking of that bitch made his headache intensify. The previous meeting had been a blunder. Swallowing the memory like a bitter pill, Erik proceeded to get on with his morning. He'd return T'Challa's call later. Maybe that will teach his cousin not to call him again in ungodly hours.

As the day progressed, his fever did too. His head felt too heavy for his neck too support and his tongue seemed to have swollen too. The sensations were alien but it was further proof that his body had been stripped of its powers granted to him by the herb. The feeling elevated his frustrations and by mid-day when he had scared away quite some people seeking help in the outreach center, Shuri forced him to retire for the day.

T'Challa called him to let him know he was landing Oakland to help him sort out his mess. He too insisted on Erik's rest.

Grumbling Erik did as he was bid and stayed in bed all day. He slept fitfully and was finally roused in mid-afternoon by his alarm reminding him of his meeting with (Y/N). He made an effort to dress himself. The spiffy new outfit made him look sharp. Shaw had drilled into him the importance of appearing neat. It'll give the impression that he was taking this seriously.

The king of Wakanda arrived just at the time he promised, not a minute late.

"How did it go?" Despite the firmness of his voice, T'Challa sounded tired. He walked with a slight limp- a recovering wound, Erik deduced.

"Just as I expected. Mission gone wrong?"

"No it was a success. My knee cap however will take some time to mend."

Erik drove them to the place where they were meeting with (Y/N) shortly. Erik did say he was perfectly capable of handling this himself but T'Challa insisted that he was by Erik's side.

"When I started my training to take up the mantle of Black Panther, I did not believe running around in cat costume would do any good." T'Challa's warm voice carried all the way across the table at the end of which sat Erik. "I understood it stood for something but I doubted the modern world would know what it stood for. I was a tenderfoot as you call it so I asked him how one person can make any difference in the world. He told me anyone can make a difference if they have conviction."

"That's cuz conviction comes from knowing we gon win. We ain't doing nothing but bluffing."

"You are missing the point cousin. I am not talking about your chance of winning the custody of your daughter. That is a long and tedious battle the outcome of which I cannot predict. No I'm talking about whether you believe you are capable of amendment or not."

"I don't get a word you saying nigga. I ain't got fancy education like yall so if you could just..." Erik made a hand gesture to convey his meaning.

"Do you truly believe your child will be able to change you for the better?"

"Does it matter?" Erik cocked his head, challenging his cousin.

"Yes it does. I want to know if that is the sole reason you are seeking her out and not because some game you are playing with your former lover."

"She ain't my lover." Erik spat venomously. "I don't do lovers. And it ain't none of yo business."

"It is. I've housed you Erik; I've given you sanctuary against the will of my people, people you have wronged. You owe me this truth."

"I din't know we struck a bargain."

"This is not a bargain Erik. It's called mending. I am trying but I need you to reciprocate too."

Shaw met them in the foyer of the hotel where the meeting was taking place. She was dressed in a pristine blue suit and her trademark lop-sided smirk. She curtseyed T'Challa and greeted Erik with a nod and fell in step with them as they headed to the meeting.

"You could just stay for a day when you are coming down here." Erik told her.

"I've got other cases."

"I can compensate."

"I don't think so. If this goes to court, it's highly probable you'll be taken to custody before you can utter your daughter's name. I should have asked to be paid up front."

"You saying it like it's what you aiming for."

"I'm being realistic. Besides you can't afford to compensate me. Money doesn't buy time."

They were met with Imari's lawyer in the conference room.

"Where is your client?" Shaw asked as she seated herself on Erik's right; T'Challa occupied Erik's left.

"Ms (Y/L/N) will not be joining us. She has trusted me to represent her."

Erik couldn't help but smile. This was better. The attorney was more likely to compromise than his client. Shaw however betrayed no emotion. "Shall we begin?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N: I've finished revising. The first part of this chapter has been posted before but the later is new. The next update will follow soon.

Cradling Nubia in his arms, Jim sat in front of the T.V hoping the moving colorful characters would distract the child. It didn't. The baby continued wailing despite his continual rocking. He had barely slept a wink last night. Lately the toddler has been a handful and that was saying something because the little devil was always up to some mischief or other. Her crying fits that were frequent during nights have started infecting daytime now. Her mother was out in the balcony on phone.

"Listen to me." He heard her snap. "I don't care if you never took case like these. I'm going against the Prince of Wakanda. Do you have any idea how rich and influential these people are?"

They were still arguing back and forth about the proposition from the other side. Neither party wanted to bother with court and preferred to settle this among themselves. They had asked for (Y/N) to allow Nubia to spend a day with Killmonger as the court would have ordered. They could have easily spurned them had T'Challa not interfered. He insisted that they reconsider leading (Y/N) to believe their own lawyer was compromised so now she was adamant to replace him. Jim sighed and got back to rocking Nubia. Sometime later the balcony door flew open and (Y/N) strode in, fuming.

"God-fucking-dammit!" She hissed.

"Shh she can hear you." Jim made an attempt to cover Nubia's small ears. "What did she say?"

"She isn't gonna take it. Apparently they are all criminal lawyers and she has no interest in 'domestic disputes'."

"You did tell her about him right? What he did?"

"Of course I did." (Y/N) barked, alarming Nubia who had just dozed off. The baby woke up with a start and started to wail loudly. Jim gave an annoyed huff and started to rock her again.

"Give her to me." (Y/N) said, feeling apologetic. Jim did without any protest, internally glad to have been relieved of duty. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have snapped. It's just everything is so- everyone thinks I'm being selfish. Even T'Challa."

"What does that tell you?"

"I don't know." She turned away. Evidently she did, she just refused to believe it's true. "It's like I'm the only one who sees him for what he is. They are supposed to be on my side. All of them are conned by his crocodile tears. He goes around parading like he's the victim and I'm the one who is depriving him, can you believe it? They all see his side but not mine yet I'm the one who suffered the most. I went through this pregnancy alone; I had no one to help me. You know how that was right?"

Jim nodded stiffly because of compulsion, (Y/N) suspected and not because he agreed.

"And he just marched in and staked his claim. It's not fair." (Y/N) massaged the troubled lines of her forehead. "Do you think that too?"

"I think you are too overwhelmed to make a rational judgment." Jim said neutrally. (Y/N) smiled- he was always the diplomat. It wasn't because he was trying to avoid conflict, she knew but rather assuring her without sacrificing his standpoint.

"I know this will sound like I'm contradicting you but you have to understand that I'm telling you this because I'm the one who can view this objectively because I'm not directly involved. I agree this is not fair and while I really want to strangle that man, I believe this is bigger than you or him. I know what you are thinking-" He put up his hand to silence (Y/N) who had sought to interrupt. "- that I don't care about Nubia and I want to get rid of her. It's not true- I fell in love with and I fell in love with her. I see Nubia as my own; her parentage never bothered me and you know this. But I can't deny that she has a biological father and I won't stand in the way when there is a chance that she may get to know him. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

(Y/N) who had started weeping silently squeezed her eyes and few fat drops of tears trickled down her cheek and landed on Nubia's skin like dew drops; she turned away burying her face in the crook of her shoulder. Letting go of the breath he had been holding, Jim put his hand around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug.

"I just want him to suffer like I did." (Y/N) sobbed into his chest.

"I know baby but we got to think about what really matters, mm? Give him a chance. It's going to be hard but you can do this. I know you can because I've seen it in you."

     

The following day, (Y/N) packed a small duffel bag filled with spare clothes, Nubia's favorite toys, and her comforter. The baby lay asleep in cocoon of blankets in bed. She slept with her mother most days; (Y/N) didn't want her to sleep alone in her cot. The nights she and Jim made love, she'd bring the baby back to sleep with them when they were done. She never wanted to part with her but it seems she may no longer have that choice.

Jim had started up the car and was waiting for them downstairs.

"You are doing the right thing." He had said.

Nubia kept fussing about her dress. (Y/N) tried to put her into the Captain America jacket.

"Ah oh!" The baby protested flailing her little arms. She wanted the Thor onesie. (Y/N) wondered how Erik will handle her tantrums. Would he drop her? Hit her if she cried too much? God, she was being paranoid. It's only one day and they will be monitored. She had nothing to worry.

They drove to the Wakandan Outreach centre in Oakland. The place had changed drastically. The buildings were nearly unrecognizable with fresh paint and renovations. The dead neighborhood was thriving again, bustling with activity.

Killmonger was waiting in the vestibule with princess Shuri. (Y/N) felt her worry lessen at the sight of her. Sub-consciously she equated the girl with safety.

"Where is King T'Challa?" (Y/N) asked her, ignoring Killmonger whose face immediately fell.

"He had to go back." Shuri replied giving her a warm smile.

"Of course." She said tightly. Doubt was once again clouding her mind. Shuri sensed it.

"But I'll be here all the time so you don't have to worry."

"Okay." She turned to Jim who had been holding Nubia. The baby was fast asleep on his shoulder, her soft lips glistening with drool. (Y/N) hesitated waking her up. She knew she was stalling. She couldn't do this....

Jim shook the child and woke up startled, breaking into tears immediately. It took much time to calm her down and transfer her to Erik's arms. To (Y/N)'s surprise, Killmonger held Nubia perfectly. His stance looked practiced. At least he tried, (Y/N) thought to herself. Nubia had stopped crying and was staring up at Erik with her wide eyes.

"Let's go." Jim's whisper made (Y/N) shudder.

"Just a little bit." She pleaded. She didn't want to leave her baby just yet. Shuri was distracting Nubia with the holograms materializing from her bracelet. The baby was having fun trying to hold them.

"We have to go, (Y/N)." Jim reminded again, not unkindly. He was right, lingering would make it much worse.

"Say goodbye to your mother Nubia." Shuri held her up. "Say 'bye mama'."

"Ma-ma." Baby Nubia mumbled. (Y/N) wiped away her tears and caressed her daughter's cheek. How would she survive without her?

"Have fun baby."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N- So yall thought I gave up on this? Nope.

The next twenty four hours were the most anxious period of (Y/N)’s life. By each tick of clock she was becoming increasingly restive. So much that Jim, the epitome of patience remarked how utterly annoying she’s being.

“You just talked to her this morning!”

“That was 4 hours ago.” (Y/N) cried. “I _need_ to check on her.”

“She’ll be fine.” Jim waved dismissively. “They are not going to kidnap her if that’s what you are worried about.”

“That is exactly what I’m worried about. I don’t put it past these guys. We don’t even know where Wakanda is.”

“Now you are being paranoid.”

“No you are being callous. I mean what did I expect?”

Jim set down his tablet carefully. “What does that mean?”

(Y/N) suddenly wished she hadn’t said that. “Nothing.”

“No go on say it.”

“I said nothing!” She bristled and turned away, unable to bear the disappointment in her partner’s eyes. Jim sighed.

“I can’t believe you still think that.” It broke (Y/N)’s heart how crestfallen he sounded. It was true. Jim had done nothing to indicate he didn’t want Nubia around. He may not be her child’s biological father but he had done fulfilled that role as if it was truly his.

“I didn’t mean-“ (Y/N) fumbled for apology but was cut abruptly by Jim.

“Maybe you didn’t. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt me.”

His words made (Y/N) cower away. She’d prefer he expressed his anger to the wretchedness in his voice that indicated the fracture in their trust. It was their first fallout in months. Generally they were so well-tuned to each other’s psyche, conflict all most never happened. It was the exact opposite of her relationship with Killmonger and she had decided she preferred it over the constant tension. But she had to go ahead and fuck that up too.

Electing to let Jim alone for a while and to let out her own frustration, (Y/N) grabbed her coat and reached for the door. “I’m going out.” She announced, not expecting a reply. “I’ll be back. Call me if you need me.”

(Y/N) went to the mall to seek out the bustle of crowd and vivid colors to take her mind off things. She hadn’t had any ‘me’ time she had birthed her daughter. Nubia was her sun and (Y/N)’s universe revolved around her. That sun was suddenly ripped away from her and she didn’t know how to cope. She thought about calling her mother for advice- her family still didn’t know the existence of Nubia. For someone who staunchly maintained she didn’t care for anyone’s opinion, (Y/N) secretly did a lot, especially of her parents. She was afraid of their condemnation.

A basket in one hand, (Y/N) strolled through the aisles of packed food aimlessly. She felt a lot calmer now but still disappointed at herself for hurting Jim. She’d make it up to him. Maybe cook him a nice dinner and slip into that red lingerie. Jim would surely be unable to resist when she got down on her knees but that had to wait- she had just spotted an old friend.

The unfortunate eye-lock happened before (Y/N) could hide herself or at least pretend she hadn’t recognized him and hurry for exit.

“(Y/N) hello!” Reuben exclaimed and made his way through the stream of people. “I don’t believe it! How long has it been?”

“Quite some time.” (Y/N) said politely, conjuring a smile. One thing led to another and they were sitting in the food court reminiscing their childhood over some chicken wings.

“Remember what Daryl used to call you?”

“Toothpick. Yeah how could I forget?” (Y/N) laughed and tried to glance at her phone as discreetly as possible. But not discreet enough.

“Am I keeping you from something?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Not at all. Just checking on something.”

It’s past 11 and time for her to pick up Nubia. Shuri was asking where she was.

“So…anyone you seeing?”

“Actually yeah. Jim and I have been together for some time.”

“That’s good. Great.”

“How about you?”

“Recovering from break-up. A nasty one. Remember Eva? Eva McCall?”

“That’s who you were dating? Seriously?” (Y/N) laughed. Of course she remembered. There was a time when she had despised her with every fiber of her being for taking Reuben from her. It was just a crush, something very childish now that she thought about it.

“That’s what I feel like now too. I guess I was too stupid to see what I already had then.” Was he referring to her? Before she could think about it, Reuben had started speaking again. “God it’s good to see you.”

(Y/N) was about to say ditto when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Quick as a cat she shifted on her stool and swatted the hand away.

Reuben was up on his feet immediately. “Hey man you need anything?”

“Relax” came Killmonger’s gruff voice.

“What are you doing here?” (Y/N) hissed. Then it hit her. Where was her daughter?

“Chill ma…she’s with Shuri. You ain’t answering yo phone so we bought her here.”

“Is everything okay?” It was Reuben’s concerned tone. Killmonger peered at him coldly.

“And who are you?”

“No who are _you_?” Reuben refused to back down.

Killmonger took a threatening step forward. “I’m her babydaddy.”

“You got a kid?” It was directed at (Y/N). She shifted uncomfortably under his judgmental gaze.

“Yeah she do. What’s it to you nigga?”

“What’s your problem man? I’m just asking.”

(Y/N) who had enough of their nonsense flared up. “Stop it. Both of you.” She glared at Killmonger and put herself between the two men.

“Reuben I’m sorry but I have to go now.”

“Yeah okay. I understand.” Reuben said easily but still glaring at Killmonger.

“I’m sorry for this. It was nice seeing you. Let’s keep in touch yeah?”

They exchanged numbers which Killmonger witnessed with thinly veiled imapatience.

“Does yo nigga know you been hopping on every dick you can get behind his back?” Killmonger asked when Reuben left.

(Y/N) had decided she won’t deign to answer him but found herself saying, “My partner doesn’t mind who I have lunch with. Jim trusts me and I trust him.”

She received a ‘humph’ in reply and whooped with joy internally. She was dreading another snarky comeback.

As they took the escalator down, Killmonger once again opened his mouth. “You know, I’ve been wondering.”

(Y/N) bit back a ‘have you?’

“Why didn’t you tell T’Challa about all the shit I done to you? You knew he won’t do this if he knew I hit you.”

(Y/N) pondered on the question. She had left out the physical abuse when recounting her story. Why had she shielded him?

“Because it made me feel weak what you did to me.” She confessed eventually. “I wasn’t doing it to save you.”

“I’m sorry.” Erik offered to which (Y/N) snorted.

“You will be.” She had just spotted Nubia in the arms of Shuri pawing at a stuffed deer. Leaving Killmonger behind, she proceeded to greet her daughter.

“Hello baby.” She cooed, taking the child from the Princess. “How are you? Did you have a good time?”

Nubia giggled and mumbled something akin to ‘Shu-ri’.

“Aw she said my name. Hey cuz, she said my name!” Shuri exclaimed. She then proceeded to detail their adventure and Nubia supported her account with enthusiastic waves. (Y/N) felt her reservations drain away. She hadn’t seen Nubia this happy. Perhaps she had been wrong to deprive her this for so long. She had been utterly blind.

“Shuri?” She found herself asking the teenager. “Would you mind watching over Nubia this evening? I’ve something to take care of.”

Shuri brightened up at once. “Of course! We’ll get to finish that stable now, Nubia.”

“Ba-ba?” Nubia mumbled.

“Yeah baba will be there too!”

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**4 months later:**

Boom! The unmistakable sound of a bazooka went off somewhere in the ship. Followed by was bratatat of carbines going off. (Y/N) tightened her grip on the M16 she was bearing and advanced. She was sweaty underneath the heavy tactical suit. She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t have clearance for active field duty and she has a 1 year old daughter back home. She definitely shouldn’t be here. Twist of fate had found her aboard a hijacked Argentine naval ship on a rescue operation somewhere in the middle of South Atlantic Ocean. She should have been monitoring as was her duty from the choppers circling overhead. But they were being overpowered and in the heat of the moment (Y/N) had donned the gear and climbed aboard the ship along with rest of the team.

“Delta-“ came the whirring sound over comms. “You have got hostages on your deck. Approach with caution.”

“Copy that.”

“Heads up- two bandits coming your way.” And sure enough they were greeted by shower of bullets. (Y/N) responded in kind. Amidst the yell of ‘In here!’ and ‘Take cover!’ she felt the ground shake. A tremor quaked through the iron structure of war-ship that momentarily unsettled the combatants.

“What was that?” (Y/N) asked when they had recovered and shot down the pair of pirates.

“Dunno.” Commander Hayes muttered. “Alpha this is Silver Hawk. What’s the hostages’ location?”

“We got a situation. Control’s detected an unidentified submarine. Probably hostile. They haven’t answered our hails yet. We are checking it out. You guys see to the hostages.”

“Copy that.”

They were directed to the belly of the ship. The first thing they noticed when the door was busted down was pile of bodies scattered on the floor and green-vested troops hovering over them. Before anyone could identify them, gunshots went off. (Y/N) yelped and ducked in time to avoid the stream of bullets. Some of her fellow troopers were hit and those remaining unhurt opened fire at once. The bullets bounced off their attire like corks off rackets. Vibranium.

“Wait-“ (Y/N) screamed putting herself in the crossfire. A few bullets struck her bulletproof vest and knocked her off but it paused the exchange. (Y/N) having recovered herself asked her teammates to stand down and took off her helmet. “They are Wakandan.”

“You!” An American accent. The owner of the voice took off his own helmet. Dreads fell around him like a shower as soon as he unmasked himself. (Y/N) found herself staring at the Killmonger.

“You-“

“What’s the meaning of this?” Hayes strode forward vehemently cutting off (Y/N). He hadn’t taken his finger off the trigger. “Where are the hostages?”

“Safely aboard our submarine. You are welcome.” Killmonger said and with his characteristic swagger extended his hand. “I’m Prince N’Jadaka of Wakanda.”

“I don’t care.” Hayes growled. “You are interrupting our operation.”

“Really? Cuz it seems like you are interrupting ours. This is an Argentine ship. Yall are Americans.”

“The Argentine government called for our help. We weren’t told you people were involved.”

“Oh we are. The ship is carrying stolen Vibranium weapons. We ain’t gonna let them fall into wrong hands.”

“This is outrageous.” Hayes complained to which Killmonger responded with a shrug.

“Not my fucking problem. You got complaints so take it up to my cuz.”

“Oh I will.” Hayes hissed. He was ready to pounce on the Wakandans and tears them to shreds. Killmonger on his part did not look unfazed at all; he was rather enjoying himself, evident from his cocky smirk. Then with a deafening ‘boom’ it was gone.

None of they knew what hit them- all of sudden the floor shifted beneath their feet and everyone was thrown off, sliding to one corner. The shock was bigger than before. The ship having lost its balance, rocked violently, shaking up everything like they were put in the washing machine. Then came the sound of metal bending and breaking.

“The ship’s blowing apart!” Someone cried. “We need to get off!”

“Everyone out! Now!”

The race toward exit was brutal. (Y/N) almost got trampled. She stumbled, trying to keep up with everyone and fell down. The troops in hurry walked all over her. (Y/N) cried out in pain- she really shouldn’t have come. Then a hand shot out of the stream and clutched her arm, pulling her off the floor.

“C’m on.” Killmonger shouted.

“Why the fuck are you here?” (Y/N) screamed at him though accepting his helping hand.

“Why the fuck are _you_ here?” He retorted, dragging her out. “The fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t and now’s not the time.” 

It really wasn’t. Soon as they poured out in the upper deck, they were met with more pirates. A gun fight ensued while the hull of the ship hissed and cracked, sinking rapidly. The choppers circling overhead lowered the rope suspension ladder.

“Go go go. Everyone on that chopper now. Civilians first. (Y/L/N), you too.”

Still firing at the hijackers, (Y/N) began her retreat. She had lost the sight of Killmonger. He probably had escaped by then. The ship was halfway sunk; the starboard side was raised higher and (Y/N) found it impossible to retain footing. The pirates clung to the railing of the opposite side and continued firing her way.

“(Y/L/N) c’m on. Everyone is up already.”

“I’m coming….hold on.” (Y/N) shouted. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spied the ladder swaying like branches in storm and the remaining men trying to climb.

“Faster. The ladders going up!”

“Dammit.” (Y/N) threw aside the rifle and struggled toward the suspended ladder. “Gotcha.”

She was hanging by the last rung when the chopper began its ascent.

“Faster. Climb. Climb!” Cried the man below her.

“I’m tryin- ah!” Something pierced through the safety of her vest and (Y/N) felt something snap inside her. She felt her grip loosen and her feet slip away from the rung, landing solid on the man waiting for his turn. The pain was brutal and immediate. It throbs deep within her back as though someone was pulling out her spine. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t cry for help other than lie still and whimper. Everything above her was a blur. She saw faces swim in and out of her vision and felt herself being lifted off the ground. Every bit of motion intensified her agony. The pain was unbearable- she pleaded them to stop but she may have lost her voice. She wished she could just stop feeling it. She wished it’d end.

After what seemed like a year of torture and anguish during which she called to all the divinities she could think of, she was aboard the chopper.

“She’s hit just above hipbone.” Somebody declared. Hands worked on her vest and the material was torn apart to reveal a bloody mess. (Y/N) took one look and felt her pain multiply. Oh God, oh God…

Everything was out of focus and the tears welling in her eyes blinded her further. She growled and thrashed in agony and prayed for the pain to end. She couldn’t bear it any longer.

“She’s losing consciousness.”

“(Y/L/N).” (Y/N) felt a finger flick on face. “Try to stay awake-“

“I can’t feel my legs.” (Y/N) whimpered, having found her voice. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Just keep your eyes open.” It was that damned voice again. Killmonger. What was he doing there?

“I’m dying…” (Y/N) spurted out a mouthful of blood. She couldn’t breathe…

“No you ain’t. Think of Nubia. Think of yo kid.”

Oh Nubia… she’ll grow up without her mother, all alone, neglected in custody of that monster. She wouldn’t remember her mother. She wouldn’t know how she came to be…(Y/N) will an unfulfilled life, never having the chance to say goodbye to her daughter. That was her last thought before she lost her consciousness all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops.


	19. Chapter 19

(Y/N) was floating. Her mind was delightfully blank. She felt no sensation, neither under her nor above, but she wasn't for the tiniest bit curious about it. She was at peace, drifting along the stream of this insensate state without a care or obligation.

For how long she remained like this (Y/N) couldn't tell but eventually she was aware of a mechanic beep-beep sound that grew louder still. The agreeable numbness was dissipating and (Y/N) reached out to hold it back in her hands but like a cloud, it melted away. Her lids felt like they were sewn shut and she cracked her eyes open with much difficulty. Immediately she was blinded by the light, sharp and painful like arrows. (Y/N) closed her eyes and remained still, willing herself to go back to sleep. But sleep wouldn't come. Her mind having regained the faculty of thinking was instantly flooded with recollections- the rescue operation, getting shot...oh no. Was she dead? Is this what being dead felt like? What was that light? She didn't get to see her daughter....where was her daughter? Where was Nubia? Panicking, she tried to sit up and found herself unable to access her limbs. She'd cry but she couldn't even find her voice. Did she not have a body anymore? The tension proved to be too much and eventually collapsed back to semi-consciousness.

The next time she woke up, (Y/N) made no attempt to move. She lay motionless, trying to take in her surrounding with her senses. The beep-beep sound was growing increasingly louder and she could feel the hard surface of something under her finger-tips. She got bored eventually and once again tried to stir. It was surprisingly easy. She fluttered her eyes open and looked about her- she was in some kind of laboratory. There were holographic objects flitting about and monitors alive with strange runes.

With as much strength she could muster, (Y/N) raised herself on her elbows and pulled up her robe to inspect her wound. There was none. Not even a scar. The lack of any physical trauma was disconcerting. She had been shot; she had felt a bone snap- this just does not happen. How long had she been out?

The sound of crashing alerted a medic who came rushing and found (Y/N) lying on the floor, tangled in her robe.

"Where am I? What is this place?" (Y/N) wheezed as soon as the medic helped her to the bed.

"You are in Wakanda." She ordered in a perfectly calm and sonorous voice.

"No I figured that. Where in Wakanda?"

"Oh. This is Princess Shuri's lab. You are under her care."

Shuri's lab?

"Why? Shouldn't I be in hospital?"

"I'm afraid your wound was too far aggravated for the doctors so you were brought here."

"But where is my wound? They don't just disappear over-night unless...how long have I been unconscious?"

"Just a day. It's healed. Do not be alarmed- everything we do here is perfectly ethical and have been approved by our medical council."

While (Y/N) tried to wrap her head around the insane medical work these people were dabbling with, the medic went to fetch Shuri.

The princesses of Wakanda came and mandated her a complete bed-rest for another day. She also informed (Y/N) that her partner was on his way to here. (Y/N) can't imagine Jim would be too pleased about the situation. She could hear him in her mind _\- why would you do something like that?_  God, she was so reckless to put her life in danger.

Shuri also filled her in as to why she had been brought in Wakanda. "You had lost too much blood. We'd have lost you if Erik hadn't brought you in-"

"I don't want to hear about him." (Y/N) said tersely. She shouldn't be rude. She was after all in presence of royalty. She hazarded a glance at the Princess who didn't seem to take it as slight.

"He did save your life." The girl said in a soft voice. "Checked on upon you every hour till you were stable."

"Shuri-"

"Sorry." She said hastily.

"No it's alright. I have to talk to your brother about what happened"

"Oh I already talked to him. He told me that he's going over the incident with your captain. But if you want to talk to him in person, you will have to wait. He will be back from Canaan by tomorrow." The tautness in Shuri's tone didn't go unnoticed by (Y/N) but she didn't comment on it.

* * *

 

The rest of her stay in Wakanda is very comfortable. (Y/N) had servants cater to her every need. She had been discharged the following day after a check-up. She marveled at the speed of recovery; in outside world, it'd take more than a month to get back to normal life again. The psychological trauma will remain however. She couldn't pick up her gun for months the first time she had been shot.

Jim had been distant. He was supportive with his words and touch of assurance but (Y/N) couldn't help but feel something was off. She didn't bring it up. Perhaps it will go away with time and they will be back to their old, comfortable routine. He went to the back to the States to bring Nubia to Wakanda- it was Erik's turn to spend time with her daughter.

Erik she saw from time to time. They never exchanged words nor did they acknowledge each other. (Y/N) kind of had a round of disagreement with T'Challa regarding Erik's involvement in their missions.

"I just thought you'd be more wary given his history." She told him after they had discussed the hijacking incident.

"I am. He's too good an asset to be wasted. Besides, I feel he'll be less inclined to ponder upon his mission to take over the world if he's engaged in something."

"Maybe he's biding his time. Collecting info so he could strike-"

"That's enough." T'Challa's sharp voice cracked like a whip. (Y/N) flinched. "I do not see how any of this is your concern. It is settled and my say is final. Rest assured I have thought about it enough to make this decision."

"Of course." (Y/N) relented. Despite the hurt she felt at T'Challa's words, she couldn't fault him. Of course, it wasn't her place to say anything. She had no relation to Wakanda. She was just the mother of a disgraced revolutionist's child. A foreigner. She had no place here. (Y/N) decided she had overstayed her welcome and announced her intention to leave the following day.

* * *

 

Oddly none of the royals came to see her off when (Y/N) boarded the aircraft that will take her home. (Y/N) told herself she didn't mind- they important business to attend to. An eerie air permeated through the atmosphere- something was happening in Wakanda that no one wanted to tell her about. Well, it was none of her business. She saw Erik lingering around the luggage area of the airport where the aircraft was parked. Maybe she should talk to him. At least tell him she's thankful toward him for saving her life; she owed him that.

"Ready to go?" The attendant asked.

"Yeah. Just lemme get my suitcase." (Y/N) said. To her surprise Erik picked up her suitcase and advanced toward her.

"Thanks." (Y/N) muttered, refusing to meet his eye. To her relief, or maybe not, Erik said nothing and let her board the plane. Soon the airport became a tiny play ground before disappearing under the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N: The love of my life has returned! That's Tom Hiddleston if you are wondering. God I missed him so fucking much and I'm thrilled we are getting him as Loki again. Why can't Disney make a similar series with Killmonger where MBJ plays Erik again?


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N- I'm sorry for the long hiatus. I've been under a lot of stress lately and I also stupidly began another fic but I'm here now. With an apology and an update. Hope this makes it up for the wait.

In another few months, (Y/N) was scheduled to be in Birnin Zana. It was Nubia's second birthday. She had grudgingly agreed to spend the milestone with her spiteful ex. The toddler had graduated from incoherent babbles to complete words, at her best, even a full three-word sentence. There was little sway to her movements as she hopped about, singing to herself. Two more years and she'll be joining pre-school. The realization made her heart constrict. She wanted to spend as much time with her child as possible before the world took her away.

She would like to consult Jim but he had assumed the role of a hermit these days. He never said anything aloud which is quite unlike him as he liked to address anything head-on. He sat in a corner, sulking while he worked. He had been the same ever since (Y/N) had been rescued. She had been scared to bring it up and since Jim didn't, she left it alone hoping it'll go away with time. But it didn't. The rift between them had widened by the minute. The silence grew so deafening that (Y/N) snapped.

"What?"

"What?" Jim's eyes looked up from his screen, feigning innocence. It made the itch under (Y/N)'s skin burn.

"You want to say something, say something."

Jim didn't waste a minute to answer and return his attention to his work. "I have nothing to say."

(Y/N) closed her, feeling more lost than ever. Is that how it was going to be? Would they just drift apart as though their lives weren't intertwined? (Y/N) couldn't have that. She had too many people walking out on her and she wouldn't let go of Jim without a fight. Therefore she rose to her feet, putting away the half-packed suitcase and padded to the bed where Jim resided.

"Hey." She whispered softly, positioning herself beside Jim. Her heart twisted painfully when Jim didn't bother to even look at her.

"Jim c'm on...would you look at me? Please?"

Her lover still refused to accommodate. A sort of desperation seized her. "We need to talk Jim. We need to talk to each other if we want to understand, you said it yourself. There isn't another way- we have to acknowledge this....it's killing me."

It seemed to have got through him. Jim raised his head slightly, still refusing to look (Y/N) in the eye. "What's there to talk about?"

"Everything...us. Nubia. What I did."

"What you did was risking your life like all these mean nothing to you." He vented, fuming like a boiled kettle.

"That's not true. You and Nubia mean everything to me-"

"Funny way of showing that." He slapped his notebook shut and proceeded to get up. (Y/N) clutched his bicep with desperation, willing him to stay but Jim was strong. He twisted free of her grip and got off the bed.

"So that's it? Are you going to throw it all away because I made a stupid mistake?"

Jim stopped in his track. (Y/N) noticed the way his back muscles strained with tension. Suddenly he whipped around, eyes wild with fury. "You don't understand at all do you? Do you know what was going through my head when I heard you have gone off to that rescue op when you swore you were done with that life? You have a daughter (Y/N). I don't want to think about it at all but if you died, I would have lost you and Nubia. That psycho ex of yours would have snatched her away from me. I may not be her biological father but Nubia is my daughter too. Don't you see? I love you. Both of you are my life and I won't survive without either of you."

"Oh Jim..." She stepped toward him to embrace him but he escaped her. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah right." Jim chortled, mocking her.

"I'm sorry." (Y/N) enunciated a little more ardently. "I didn't think. I just- I decided without thinking much. Truth be told I miss my old life. I didn't want this responsibility. I wanted- I wanted to feel like my old self again. I was only thinking of myself and I acted selfishly, and I'm sorry for that." A broken sob escaped her. She had hoped Jim would take pity on her and console him but he didn't sound like he moved at all.

"It's not your fault- the responsibility thing." He said eventually and (Y/N) sighed with relief. "But you don't have a choice. The only thing you can do is share that responsibility with me."

"I know." (Y/N) agreed, wiping away a stray tear.

The door to their bedroom opened a little and little head of curls peeked through. "Ma-ma?"

(Y/N) swallowed her pain and went to pick her up. "Yes honey?"

"I can't sleep- too much noise."

"Oh I'm sorry hun. Dad and I were just talking. We got a little-" She glanced over her shoulder. Jim had pulled himself together and smiled weakly. "Everything is fine now. Let's get you to bed now mm? We have a flight to catch tomorrow-"

________

There was no royal escort to take them to Wakanda this time, neither anyone was there to receive them when they landed in the Golden City.

"The king is held up in some affair." Their attendant informed her when she saw (Y/N)'s disappointment. She couldn't help but feel T'Challa was dissatisfied with her and no longer wanted to retain ties with her.

"And the princess? How is she?"

"Princess Shuri is in good health. She is abroad at the moment but we expect her back this afternoon."

It smelled suspicious. Something was going on that the Wakandans were trying to keep it under hush. It could inter-tribe problems but (Y/N) saw no threats that will jeopardize their safety there. Her doubts were pushed back to the back of her minds for she had to encounter a formidable opponent- Queen Ramonda upon whom the duty fell to welcome them to the royal residence. The queen mother had a way of unnerving her in a way even the most notorious terrorist couldn't. Her attitude toward (Y/N) had softened over time though she still had an aura of severity about her. She wouldn't admit it aloud but Ramonda always reminded how different they were, background wise, that she will never be the same as the Wakandans. The dowager queen's icy gaze made (Y/N) fumble in her step and when it shifted to young Nubia, she heaved a sigh of relief; the feeling that she will never be good enough for them intensifying again.

They supped in the evening when Shuri arrived.

"Oh look at you!" Shuri exclaimed, seizing Nubia in a tight hug. "You've grown so much."

Unlike rest of the royals, including the staff, Shuri was open with her enthusiasm. Perhaps they were not restrained when they weren't entertaining a guest. Perhaps being with a foreigner put them on their guard. But Killmonger was too but they seemed to have claimed him as their own so why can't they extend that affection toward her?

Dinner is delicious but (Y/N) could hardly enjoy it. She was struggling to feed Nubia. Vegetable however well-prepared did not agree with her. The baby complained and threw a tantrum in front of their host so that (Y/N) was forced to snap.

"That's it. I've had enough. Off to bed you brat."

It invited another spell of tantrum from Nubia.

"I'll take her to bed." Killmonger said across the table, already on his feet. (Y/N) shot him a sharp look.

"It's okay I can handle it. Excuse me."

When she returned from tucking Nubia in bed, everyone has already finished eating. They however were waiting for her out of properness.

"I think we should do the ceremony here." Queen Ramonda was saying. (Y/N) had expected them to cease their conversation soon as she had entered but they continued.

"It's too risky."

"We got guards patrolling throughout the city. We got the Hatut Zeraze reporting us. And Birnin Bashenga is a fortress. We gon be safe."

"What's going on?" (Y/N) whispered to Shuri who was leisurely eating her dessert.

"There's a bit of a problem in the west." Shuri explained in a low voice. "There's a tribe called Desturi who have been creating a- but you don't have to worry. It's not that serious. Everything is under control."

Is that what T'Challa's busy with, (Y/N) wondered but she didn't say anything. It wasn't any of her business.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N- I wrote this in one sitting so please excuse any mistakes. I'll try to edit later.

Birth anniversary was celebrated quite differently in Wakanda. To them it is a new beginning- Nature’s ultimate gift; a chance of lifetime. A day such as this has to be commemorated accordingly. Families and friends take part in numerous festivities to welcome the newborn to the world. (Y/N) had missed such festivities. Motherhood to her then had been more of a predicament than a blessing. Nonetheless, here she was and she couldn’t imagine a world without her daughter now.

They were in Birnin Bashenga, the westernmost city named after the original Black Panther. The tributary that originated from Canaan passed through the city and met with others to form the river Nokwazi. Behind it rose the Jabari mountains and in the distance, the Great Mound was visible. It was also Killmonger’s new home. (Y/N) had hardly seen him. He had taken an active role in organization of the event in absence of T’Challa who had been held up at work.

“Is there always such heavy security?” (Y/N) asked as she spied another batch of guards patrolled past them. There seemed to be tens of them on each floor and several hundred outside.

“Almost.” Queen Ramonda who was keeping her company replied. “There are other babes too who will be named today.”

The rite of passage began at the crack of dawn. Nubia is bathed and fashioned in silk tunic, jewelry and a big ceremonial headdress that was too large for her little head. She wasn’t complaining though- the child was having the time of her life basking in everyone’s attention. Especially her aunt Shuri’s.

“Isn’t she adorable?” The princess cooed, picking the babe up and rocking her.

“Oh hush now Shuri.” The queen mother chastised. “We need to hurry or we will miss the sunrise.”

The newborns were the first to be anointed and presented to the elders for naming. Since Nubia had already been named, she only had to take part in the next ritual- the Initiation. The ritual required both (Y/N) and Killmonger to participate with their daughter. With other couples, they stepped forward but while everyone had tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces, Nubia’s parents remained as grim as they were attending a funeral. It is kind of being baptized. (Y/N) hadn’t argued against that. It didn’t matter what faith Nubia would chose. Besides, Nubia came from two distinct cultures; she should be introduced to both.

“Where’s Jim?” Killmonger whispered when (Y/N) had deposited Nubia at the feet of the elders.

“He’s at work.” (Y/N) said and that was it. After the ceremony ended, they parted ways.

The feast and merriment lasted the entire night. At sunrise the following day, they began their departure. Nubia had boarded the only hovercraft with the queen and the princess; (Y/N) had to wait for it to come back. She stood on the edge of the cliff watching the aircraft vanish behind the misty mountains; the coppery peaks shone like heaven in the morning sun. The land was breathtakingly beautiful. She had known it before but in an objective sort of way but now she could imagine actually living here. Nubia would be thrilled no doubt and (Y/N) will go wherever her daughter is. The only problem was Jim. She can’t have him uproot his life for her. No there’s nothing for him here and (Y/N) doubts she will ever be more than Killmonger’s babymama.

She was so deep in thought, she had ignored the sudden rise of cacophony behind her. The sound of a gun going off made her return to her senses. Turning back she found the entire valley in uproar. Tumbling, (Y/N) descended into the heat of the chaos. She had little time to process it all. People were running amuck; some seeking shelter, others bearing arms. A riot was breaking out in front of her own eyes. A car was rushing straight at her and (Y/N) had to jump out of its way. The passenger door opened to reveal Killmonger.

“Get in.”

(Y/N) didn’t have to be told twice. She leaped into the back seat and slammed the door shut. The car swerved out, hitting something solid and vaulted down the rocky road with full speed.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” (Y/N) cried hysterically once they left behind the mayhem.

“An attack.” Killmonger answered. He sounded rattled.

“By who?”

“The Desturi.”

(Y/N) recalled hearing that name two days before. “What is a Desturi?”

“A tribe. Kind of extremists. We been anticipating an attack but I got no idea how they did something like this. We took every precaution. Damn Challa’s gon think I did this.” He pulled at his kimoyo beads and a hologram popped up. “Fuck.”

“What happened?”

“There’s no signal. Xolani, try the radio.”

The driver pushed and adjusted several buttons. “Nothing.”

“They are jamming all signals. Shit.” The realization gave (Y/N) a whiplash. A cold shiver ran down her spine; her body became stiff as a board.

“We need to get back to Birnin Bashenga fast. We try to contact T from there. Hopefully they know by now what’s happening here.”

“There’s something ahead.” Their driver announced as he hit the break. The car came to stop with a screeching halt. Through the windshield they could see tanks lined up along with felled trees blocking their way.

“Back up. Now.”

Xolani was quick to obey. The engine revved up with a roar and reversed back, blowing a storm of dust before them.

Clunk! The windshield cracked and the head of a spear pierced through. They were being fired upon.

“Keep your heads down.” (Y/N) did as she was told, kneeling below the seats. Splintered glasses showered her back like hails. Her ear was ringing from the sound of shots; she was aware of a scream but she couldn’t tell if it were hers. The car raced down the bumpy mountain path, tumbling like a cardboard box being tossed in a storm.

When the sound of the shots died down, (Y/N) lifted herself from the floor.

“You aight there?”

(Y/N) nodded to Killmonger’s query. “How are we getting there?”

“There’s another way. We go through the mountain pass. It’s risky but no one will be there. We ditch the car and walk around them.”

The rebels had covered that too.

They waited till the three of them arrived at the mouth of the pass. The path was narrow, only a few feet wide. A hundred foot drop was guaranteed if they misplace their foot. Phobia gripped (Y/N) by the throat.

“What are you doing? We gon get our asses killed if we don’t hurry up.”

(Y/N) tried to pull herself together. She could do this, she had to do this – for Nubia. But then something exploded and they were in the air, falling, falling, falling. (Y/N) felt her body lose weight; her head hit the roof of the car. The motion slowed abruptly. The expected impact of hitting the ground didn’t come. It felt like they were caught by a net that was being torn apart by the weight. What came were branches and leaves piercing through the frame of the car. A tree or maybe many of them had broken their fall. The relief was momentary because the crack of branch breaking echoed all around and they were falling once again.

It was a short fall but the damage was significant. At first (Y/N) couldn’t estimate her injuries. She was being crushed under seats, unable to feel anything from waist down. Through the chink in the mangled frame of the car, she could see Xolani coughing up blood, a branch pierced through his heart. She watched him wheeze, trying to take his last few breathes and she watched the light leave his eyes.

For how long she lay, she didn’t know. Was she dead? She didn’t have the energy to think anymore. Eventually the weight upon her shifted. With the little space it provided, (Y/N) dragged out her trapped body. Above her Killmonger loomed, panting from exhaustion; a metal spoke sticking out of his pectoral. (Y/N) picked herself up with her residual strength and brushed dirt off her body.

“Oh god.” She exhaled shakily.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly am sorry for the long wait. I got sucked into another villain black hole (Orm, loml) and honestly I have no excuse. But I'm back again with a longer chapter. Hope this makes up for the wait.

They were in a sinkhole. A slice of clear blue sky was visible through the aperture of the hole through which they had fallen. (Y/N) would reach for it if she had sensation in her hands. Her eyes moved around the dark confines of the trench. The car lay battered a little away from her; shards of glass and metal splinters remained scattered on the rocky ground. Behind the demolished car door she spied Xolani’s crumpled, lifeless body. His head was crushed and blood flowed, seeping out through the cracks of the car.

Something moved in the dark. Killmonger. (Y/N) had forgotten he was there too. He staggered forward into the light and slumped on the ground, panting heavily. His dreads had come off, falling all over his face and he clutched his chest where the splinter stuck out like a broken tusk, groaning as he tried to pull it out.

(Y/N) moved without thinking. ”Lemme see that.” She knelt in front of him and put her hands on his shoulder in order to steady him. Killmonger immediately stiffened and tried to move away. “I can do it myself.” He grumbled like the proud bastard he was. (Y/N) won’t have any of it; she had been in too many situations akin to this and this wasn’t time for ego.

“Hold still.” She commanded, holding him in place. Killmonger gave a low growl but permitted her to take control. The spoke had pierced deep into his chest, missing his heart by mere inches. It was big enough to be pulled out by hand and guaranteed an incredibly painful ordeal. The cut was deep and would need to be stitched up as soon as the spoke was out or else, he’d bleed to death. Furthermore, they had no sterilizer. Without it, the wound will start festering swiftly. The realization made her head spin and she realized she was spiraling out of control. She needed to focus.

“This is gonna hurt.” She informed him as she started tearing the hem of his shirt; she required something to staunch the bleeding.

“Had worse.” Killmonger grumbled, looking away quickly but (Y/N) still caught the flash of fear in his eyes. She lowered her head to inspect the wound- it was a mess. She’d have to be careful. Wrapping her finger around as delicately as possible, she looked upwards to let him know it’s time. Killmonger gave a curt nod to signal- do what you got to do. The grip on the spoke tightened and a sharp hiss was elicited. Hands firm on his solid chest, (Y/N) started to pull out the metal in uniform pace. She could feel the strain of the muscles underneath her palm, unwilling to let go off the foreign body. Above her, Killmonger snarled and hissed, trying to hold himself together. Eventually it became too much to bear and with a loud moan he dropped his head on the crook of her shoulder, thrashing with pain.

“Just a little more-“ She gave a final pull and with a gasp from Killmonger, the spoke was out. (Y/N) held it up in light for inspection- its jagged tip had a tissue between its teeth, crimson blood glistening like garnet in sunlight. (Y/N) threw it aside and proceeded to tear more fabrics; the blood was flowing like spring. She took off her ceremonial dashiki and with the fabrics she had bunched and pasted to his chest, she began to tie the wound.

When she was done, she let the fatigue finally take over and sagged on the ground.

“We have to move.” Killmonger said when he had composed himself. “They gon start looking for us.”

“Yeah no shit.” (Y/N) grunted, willing her weary body to stir. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and let whatever was in store happen. But killmonger was right. They were in dangerous territory. They had no medical supplies, no water and nothing to defend themselves with.

The sinkhole led them to underground caves with long tooth like stalactites hanging off the rocky ceiling. They stuck to the underground path; safer than open ground above. They traversed the way till their bodies were exhausted, stumbling on the boulders in the dark. Light entered in faint rays through the minute cracks and fissures in the rock. Sometimes the way became too narrow to pass through standing. Plenty of times (Y/N) scraped her skin on the sharp rocks while crawling through the caves; each of them burning like hot iron on her skin.

Killmonger had it worse. (Y/N) could see his energy deplete; see the beast of a man brought down by a simple metal splinter. He had already lost too much blood. He required rest.

“We gotta stop here.” (Y/N) announced, giving him her hand to pull him up. They were going further into the caves without knowing where it was leading them.

“We can’t.” Killmonger panted. “We gotta keep going.”

“We don’t even know where we are-“

“Probably south to where we crashed, judging by the light-“ He looked up at the sunrays filtering through the holes. “We go southwest, we’ll be nearing Mena Ngai. The caves looking like it gon go that way. We gon be aight. Besides, I’m fine.”

“So you think. We have been walking for god knows how many hours in this goddamned never-ending maze and you are fucking bleeding but sure, we are gonna be fine.” (Y/N) snapped. She was done with this man-child’s over-confidence.

“Hey whatchu raising yo raising yo voice for? You ain’t the one bleeding out. You wanna stay here and get caught? Fine. Imma go myself.” He finished and stalked off only to hit himself on the head with a descending stalactite.

Despite the gravity of the situation, (Y/N) felt her heart lift at the sight of Killmonger getting stumped by a rock. A small victory. It was short-lived for (Y/N) quickly caught on to the fact the he had stopped moving. Alarmed, she scurried to where he lay on his front. The first thing she noticed was the make shift bandage had come off. It took enormous effort to roll him over to his back so she could examine the damage. The man had definitely blacked out. His breathing was shallow (Y/N) observed when she held her fingers under his nostrils, too faint. His forehead where the rock had hit him now bore an angry red bruise.

“Killmonger.” She tried to shake him up by his massive shoulders. “Hey. Wake up!”

It yielded no result. Dreading she was losing him, (Y/N) slapped him. Again and again. Killmonger opened his eyes with a start.

“Wha-“

“Jesus fucking Christ.” (Y/N) grumbled, slapping him once again for the scare he had given her.

“Fuck. Whah was tha fo-“ He slurred. (Y/N) ignored him. As carefully as possible, she proceeded to take out the bunched up fabric soaked completely with blood and cast it aside. She required more gauze and began to make them out of his shirt, stripping him bare. She hadn’t felt those raised scars in years. She couldn’t recall the last time she had felt them for real and not in her dreams. She quickly shut down those thoughts. This wasn’t the time.

Patching him up for the second time, (Y/N) sat down on a nearby rock, too tired to think even. Her back her; so did her limbs and her head. Only hours ago she was enjoying the warmth of the sun above the cliff. Now she was hiding under literal rocks.

“Who are these people?” (Y/N) asked eventually. She had recovered a little from the weariness. The light above have dimmed, signaling the end of the day. “The Desturi?”

Killmonger didn’t look like he was in any state to answer. He stirred however and wetted his lips.

“An ancient tribe. Old as this bloody continent itself and radical. If you thought Wakandans were isolationists you ain’t seen nothing. These people hate people like me as much as the whites. To them we are still outsiders. They value tradition. They don’t believe is sharing nothing.”

“How come I haven’t heard anything about them?”

“Because my wise cuz decided to hush it all up. These people had lost power over the centuries but after the old king died they resurfaced. The government was in transition and they tried to exploit that. Now that T has opened the borders, they are calling for his head.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah I told Challa we could smoke those bitches but you know him. Fucking saint. ‘We need to approach with tact’.” He mimicked his cousin’s distinctive accent. “Look where that got us. I might bleed to death in a fucking cave while he sips wine in another diplomatic summit.”

(Y/N) felt anger starting to flare inside her. Maybe action was more pertinent to these situations than diplomacy. It was odd for she had always favored conversation than action. Maybe being affected first hand had brought this new realization. Was that why Killmonger too was keen to take the physical confrontation course?

It suddenly dawned to her this was the longest they had spent with each other since….Well that was in the past. They were at each other’s throat and now they depended on each other for survival. Had she forgiven him? Absolutely not. But till they make it out of here, she was willing to cooperate with him.

Speaking of survival, (Y/N) realized she was parched. Pangs of hunger had been clawing inn her empty stomach for a while but this she couldn’t ignore. Her throat was constricted having dried up from the lack of fluid. She tried conjuring spit to wet her tongue but to no avail. Distressed, she glanced at Killmonger who was drooping on his stone seat. Three strides brought her to him and she knelt to check if he had caught of a fever. He hadn’t. Yet. She stepped back and sat down on the ground, not far away from him.

“How long do you think we gon be trapped here?” Killmonger slurred. His eyelids cracked a little and (Y/N) saw his pupil flicker to her. Her heart dropped. Even he was seeking for assurance. They had no hope.

“I don’t know. You are the one with resources. You tell me.”

Killmonger hummed in resignation. The sound sent a chill down her spine; she shivered and instinctively started massaging her arms.

“You’re cold.” Killmonger observed. (Y/N) exhaled in frustration and rubbed her arms faster. She had given up her clothes for his wounds and was left exposed to the chill in only her innerwear.

“C’m here.”

(Y/N) looked up. “What?”

“We need to share heat otherwise we’ll both freeze to death.”

The thought of being skin to skin with him made (Y/N)’s heart jump. She wasn’t gonna do that. She couldn’t do that. But there was truth to his words. It was a matter of survival and ego had no place there. Besides, it’ll be hypocrisy considering she was chiding him mentally for his ego not long ago. She got up and shifted closer toward him until they were plastered to each other’s side. Killmonger’s arm was colder than her own. She should wrap her arms around him but she didn’t want to assume too much.

Not much later her eyelids grew heavier and weariness started to seep out of her tired bones. She let herself fall, submitting to the darkness around her. Maybe she imagined the whispered ‘good night’ before drifting off completely.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took my time with this one.

(Y/N) woke up to the unbearable feeling of something solid blazing against her skin. Instinctively, she shoved it away and immediately was jolted awake by a loud groan. Killmonger who had been plastered to her side and whom she had shoved away was rolling in the dirt, clutching his chest.

"You dumb fucking- nngh"

(Y/N) was at his side at once, apologetic. "I'm sorry I didn't- o my god." She made to turn him on his side but he convulsed at her touch like she was live electricity.

"Gerroff me!"

"Look you are not-" She forcefully turned him on his back and pried his hands away. With steady fingers, she undid the bandage. A litany of curses escaped Killmonger's chaffed lips. He thrashed and snarled but (Y/N) pinned him down. This wasn't like him; the Killmonger she knew could sit through hundred stitches without so much as a twitch of eyebrow. He seemed delirious. On instinct she placed her hand on his forehead- he was burning up.

"We need to find water." She said as soon as she was done inspecting. She couldn't let the fever escalate; they were running out of time. "I know I'm asking too much but can you walk?"

Killmonger answered with a growl. With incredibly grueling effort he sat up and dusted his soiled trouser. He blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the sudden burst of light through the crack overhead. (Y/N) helped him on his feet and together they began to advance through the labyrinth of tunnel. The strenuous job of supporting and guiding him wore her out before long. But she had to keep going.

Not much later, (Y/N) realized they were lost. Without Killmonger to verbally guide her, she had taken them wherever the path had led. Judging the angle of the sunrays, she decided it was noon. Exhaustion threatened to knock her out. Her back hurt like hell; courtesy of supporting man 70 pounds heavier than her. Her stomach rumbled- a grave reminder of their predicament. A person can go without food for 3 weeks; without water, even less. The whole Wakanda was dealing with Desturi now; they probably didn't have the time to send out search party for them. Or they assumed they were dead. The thought made her knees go weak.

"Why are we st-stopping?" Killomonger slurred.

"You need to rest. We've been walking for hours."

"So? I ain't ready to drop yet."

"Well I am." (Y/N) snapped. Why did he have to be so fucking stubborn?

"Pussy."

(Y/N) considered elbowing him in his wound but settled for dropping him. Killmonget let out an embarrassing yelp and tumbled on the rocky floor. "Bitch."

She helped him up eventually and with mild complaint, dragged them forward. One more step, she kept herself telling. She can do this. Her eyes have started to droop and the periphery of her vision was closing in.

(Y/N) heard it before she saw it. The trickling sound of a running stream. Brimming with exhilaration and relief, she almost dropped Killmonger to chase the soothing music of water. The glimmer of hope that had extended its hand through the pit of despair, she had to take it. Doubling her effort, heaving and panting as she supported the crippled man, she pursued the sound.

The maze eventually opened to an unsheltered valley with sparse thicket and few trees. The rapid that cut through the valley was bubbling with ferocious intensity. (Y/N) dragged themselves to its bank and dropped on her knees, crawling for the clear liquid she had been thirsting for an entire day.

Had anything ever tasted better? She couldn't identify it as sweet or bitter; it was just water, cool and hydrating. It woke of the numb parts of her body and lightened the candle of hope that had gone out. She drank it fervor; the water dribbled down her chin and escaped through her fingers and wetting her body. She drank it till she felt rejuvenated and when she had her fill, she sat back, remembering Killmonger. He had crawled to the bank too and was drinking it out of his single hand; the other was clutching his chest.

(Y/N) helped him sit up and cupping as much water she could, she made him drink it. It was then she realized the water had a rotten smell of sulfur to it that she had ignored earlier. It wasn't very intense and therefore not immediately harmful. When he was done, she undid his bandages for dressing.

The brook washed away little of the stains on the fabric. She let left them on the rocks of the bank to dry and returned with only one to clean the infected lesion. It was a frightening sight. Blood around the wound had coagulated into maroon lumps; his skin was littered with angry purple patches of bruise. His body too was burning up. She had to bring down his fever.

It took hours of tending; the wet cloth on his head and body had to be changed repeatedly and (Y/N) did so without complaint.

"You can just leave me and go." Killmonger whispered in his fever. "Save yourself."

"Keep talking and I will." (Y/N) chastised. He wasn't wrong. She had more chance of making it out if she left him; he was deadweight. No she couldn't do that. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did. The thought of him lying on the dirt, feverish and calling out to God will haunt her forever. It's ironical how ardently she prayed for him to suffer but when God delivered it, she couldn't bear it.

Finally the temperature came down a notch and she let her arms fall limp by her side, exhausted. Killmonger, now sentient, sat upright leaning against a rock.

"This isn't the Great Mound." He observed.

"I lost the way." (Y/N) said with hesitation. She couldn't explain the sorry feeling of failure. She had tried her best.

"You okay?"

(Y/N) looked up with surprise. "Oh yeah. Just hungry."

Killmonger lolled his head back. "There's prolly some wild berries around."

"Well then get me some."

"I'm invalid."

"Can't say you don't deserve it." (Y/N) didn't bother to mask the humor in her tone. "You did shoot me."

"You still milking that?" He asked in amusement, cracking one eye open.

"Yeah I'm still milking that."

They decide not to travel further. Dusk had settled. There's no need to risk breaking their necks by slipping in the steep valley. Killmonger helped her gather some twigs and started a fire at the mouth of the cave they've sought shelter. The heat emanating from the fire wasn't enough to keep them warm and (Y/N) rubbed her exposed torso to make up for it. The twigs won't sustain for long too; the crackling flames devoured them swiftly like starved man.

Despite the overwhelming fatigue, (Y/N) couldn't let herself doze off. She had to keep an eye on Killmonger. There's no telling when the fever will come again. His body was too weak to fight off the infection; an aggravated fever will do away with him quicker.

"You can go to sleep ya know." Killmonger said when she rubbed her eyes violently. "I ain't gon go nowhere."

"You ain't gonna go anywhere with that injury." (Y/N) said dryly. "Besides that's not why I'm keeping my eyes on you."

"Word? I'm that good looking huh?"

(Y/N) didn't bother to resist rolling her eyes. Even at death's door, he remained as smug. He continued to talk, not a bit daunted by her reaction.

"This is just like when we were in Niger. My third tour that was. No, fourth. The entire troop got stranded in that fucking desert. No food, no water for weeks. Had us eating desert snakes for survival. Nasty stuff. Raw of course. Had nothing to build a fire."

(Y/N) wanted him to stop. This wasn't doing anything to lessen her anxiety; actually aiding it.

"It's hard for you. You ain't been in this before."

"It's hard." (Y/N) confessed. "But it's nothing like when I had Nubia."

She risked a glance at the man opposite him- Killmonger had stiffened. "You asked me why I didn't get an abortion. I tried to. I went to the clinic, talked to the doc. Even climbed on the operating table. But I couldn't go through with it. I could feel the anesthetic begin to work and I suddenly panicked. I screasmd for them to stop it and....when I was fully conscious, the doc came and told me they hadn't done it. She asked me if I wanted to review my decision and I said yes.

"Nubia came earlier than expected. I was gonna get someone to help me during the delivery week. SO when y water broke, I had no one. My family didn't know. I couldn't wait for my colleagues to come so I drove myself, through the contractions. It was....unbearable. The amount of pain- I had never experienced anything like it and this is npthing compared to the whole ordeal. I had a C-section, did you know? Stayed in the hospital for couple of days. Went back again for Nubia's vaccination. That's when I met Jim." She finished with a content sigh. Jim, how she missed him. He must be out of his mind.

"I'm sorry." Killmonger said softly; his head hung low.

"So you've said. Just...tell me this. Did you hook up with me cuz I was investigating Klaue? Was that your plan?"

"No!" He asserted. "Maybe...I don't know. But I wasn't gonna use you to get Klaue."

"So why stick around?"

Killmonger had no answer to that.

* * *

 

Morning found them descending down the valley. They've picked up some wild fruits along the way which subdued the hunger. At foot of the hill, they found a village. Having lost their way, they have crossed the Wakandan border into Canaan. They sent a distress signal and waited to be picked up while the guileless villagers tended to them.

The rescue team that landed included T'Challa himself, Princess Shuri and Jim. Soon as she spotted him, (Y/N) galloped toward him and leapt into his arms.

"I thought I had lost you." Jim said between kisses; tears streaming down his cheek made his mouth taste salty.

"Me too. O god I thought you gave up on me. I thought you were angry."

"Never. I trsut you. Always."

She kissed him again. Her home, her rock. "Nubia? How's she? How's my baby?"

"She's okay now. She wanted to come but I told her I'm gonna bring you to her safely. Let's go home, mm?"

"Good to have you back, Erik." T'Challa said with a pat on his shoulder surprising Erik.

"Yeah?"

"Mm. We searched the site where the car crashed. Couldn't track through the caves. You'll be happy to know we've taken many of them into custody. They are awaiting trial now. You need to rest first. We have much to discuss."

Erik hummed noncommittally. T'Challa followed the direction of his gaze- (Y/N) and Jim were locked in an emotional embrace.

"I think I loved her." Erik admitted, his voice cracking.

T'Challa placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Together they boarded the Royal Flyer.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this chapter was a bitch. I edited this more than fifteen times and lost the drafts. Twice.

(Y/N) didn’t return to Wakanda for 8 months. Erik groused in silence, laboring to convince himself it didn’t matter. Thundered and raged when someone cast a pitiful look at his wretched condition. He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him. It wasn’t their business anyway. Soon everyone learnt not to mention it and started to ignore his shenanigans, and Erik hated that too.

(Y/N) got married in the meantime. To Jim of course, that son of a bitch. Erik heard about it during a mission in Bavaria and drunk in abandon to drown the inexplicable anger clawing at his heart, trashed the bar until Okoye had to call for backup and dragged him away.

When she returned to Wakanda for the occasion of T’Challa and Nakia’s engagement, she was visibly pregnant. Erik spied from far away. He didn’t want to attend. False, he didn’t want to  _want to_  attend and ended up making an appearance anyway. He had wanted to hurt her, fantasized her upset when she notices his absence like a dumb schoolboy but it was apparent she didn’t care. She smiled and laughed as she conversed with the party, literally glowing while cozying up to that bastard who had his arms locked around her like tentacles.

Let her be. What did it matter to him? She’s just a girl. He can have ten other girls in this very room eyeing him, better, more beautiful and eager for him. He shouldn’t be hung up on her when there’s better things lined up for him, waiting to be taken. What could she offer anymore? He had already had her, sired a child with her. Her heart? Was that what he craved? Was he even capable of loving or wanting to be loved? Love is a weakness- it had been drilled to his psyche. A mean of exploitation. Leverage. As a mercenary, he couldn’t let himself be attached to anything, or anyone. Because it was a liability and nothing lasts forever. But he wasn’t a mercenary anymore. There’s no need to run. At this point of life, while everyone else had settled, he was lost. He required stability, an anchor and unfortunately, (Y/N) is that anchor. A long time had passed before he allowed himself to accept it. His pride and his stubbornness had blunted his mind so bad he refused to see what was right in front of him. But he had lost his chance. His own pig-headedness had come to bite him in the ass. He had her and he took her for granted, abused her and ruined her, and now she was gone.

“What do you think, Erik?”

Erik blinked. He had been vaguely aware of being in a conversation but had tuned out long time ago. Since then, his companions have changed as he found himself in presence of his cousin, the queen mother, some other tribe leaders, and of course (Y/N) and Jim.

“What?”

“I was saying it’s time for Nubia to start pre-school.” (Y/N) said. “Don’t you think?”

Erik’s head was throbbing. He messaged his temple and tried to blink away his swimming vision. “Yeah- no….” He slurred.

“No?”

“Mm-“ Fuck, if he didn’t die in one of these missions, he’ll surely die of kidney failure.

“Isn’t it too early?” Queen Ramonda was heard saying.

“Not in America. Two or three is pretty standard.”

“Well this is not America.”

“Mother-“ T’Challa cautioned.

“Children shouldn’t be separated from their parents at such young age.”

“There’s no separating. She’ll be learning and making new friends. It’s a part of growing. We’re gonna need time to set up a nursery with this one its way.”

Erik couldn’t listen to them talk anymore. His head felt too heavy.

“Hey man, you okay?” A hand rested on his bicep- a gesture of concern. Jim. Erik reacted viciously.

“Get off me man- what the fuck?”

A thump and Jim was staggering back, shock and bewilderment wild in his eyes. It was followed by a tussle. Everything was happening too fast; the buzz around him was hurting his ears. He saw a saucer fly off the server’s hand as he stumbled into her; it crashed at (Y/N) feet. She yelped and stepped back, horrified.

“I’m sorry-“ He tried to reach out to her but Jim firmly wedged himself between them. Erik almost punched him- he had enough of this dickwad getting involved in everything but stopped himself. He had done enough damage. And by the look horror in (Y/N)’s eyes, he doubted he’d ever right this. So he staggered backward, snatching up a flute of champagne from a nearby server.

“Congratulations.” He tipped the glass, making a vague gesture to (Y/N)’s bump and turned on his heels.

* * *

     

Erik couldn’t get a wink of sleep. He had been in bed for hours, forcing himself to lay still but he mind just wouldn’t shut down. So he got up, wrapped himself in a quilt and stepped outside his quarter. It’s a quiet night. The gentle breeze brought a faint smell of jasmine. The corridor was awash with moonbeams. It’s the second night of the event. Erik had barred himself in his quarter. He had food sent up to his room and refused to see anyone. Not that anyone came looking. They were all engaged in festivities, drinking health to the engaged couple. His presence wasn’t mandatory especially after the stunt he had pulled. No, he was gonna hide till this blew over.

His midnight stroll took him away from his quarters. He had passed several guards on his ways none of whom had reacted to his presence. They stood invisible in the shadows, almost another column but ever vigilant. Eventually he arrived in the other wing of the palace, where the guests were housed. Don’t go, his sanity tugged him but he ended up ignoring it. Softly, like a cat, he padded across the tiled floor.

The corridor was deserted. The doors locked from the inside. Erik could hear his own ragged breath as he moved swiftly. Something moved and his heart lurched. Just a shadow of a branch swaying in the wind. He wondered what would anyone think when they stumble onto him snooping around.

There’s a swishing sound that made his hackles rise. He halted and lent his ear, hoping to catch the sound again. It repeated. Someone was moving around. He tiptoed further till he came across a spacious lounge that opened to a balcony. A robe clad figure stood obscured by the panels. In a trance he found himself in that balcony, shifting on his feet because he was torn between wanting to speak and disturbing the image before him.

Her back to him, (Y/N) leant forward on the balcony. Wind lifted the hem of the fine fabric that defined her figure. The light of the waning moon danced on her hair and shoulder, lending her an ethereal aura. Erik should go but his motor skills refused to cooperate. And then she turned, shoulder first and then her head like she was forcibly tearing her gaze from the moon. Their eyes met and something went off in Erik’s head. He was a deer caught in headlights, absolutely transfixed; incapable of heeding basic instinct of flight. A shadow fell across her face which she immediately swapped for a neutral look.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She said in an explanatory tone. “My hormones have gone berserk. Threw up couple of times but that could be the food too.”

Erik was surprised he could find his voice. “Where’s Jim?” As soon as the accusation left his lips, regret pounced on him. He was walking on thin ice already. (Y/N) however didn’t mind the question or at least, tried not to look like she did.

“Asleep with Nubia. I kept them up most of the night so figured they needed to get some rest.” Her hand left edge of the balcony and settled on her swelled stomach, massaging it gently. The sight brought an overwhelming surge of sadness.

“Why you even talking to me?” He couldn’t keep himself from asking. “After what I did last night?”

(Y/N) adopted a smile. “Well I could go at this in two ways. I could scream at you or I could wait for you come to me like you’ve done and we could do this in a civilized way.” She detached herself from the edge and walked to the other end of the balcony. “So why did you?”

Erik was immediately transported to his school days when he was dragged to the principal’s for some brawl he caused or tried to finish. He found he wasn’t ready for that answer.

“Well?” (Y/N) prompted.

“You don’t call my name no more.” He said instead.

“What?”

“Why don’t you call me by my name?”

“Why did you react like that?” She countered.

“I don’t know…I was drunk.”

“Oh I figured. But that wasn’t the problem. The alcohol just made you snap. So what is it?”

“I don’t know-“

“What is your problem with me?”

“Who says I got problem with you?” He was suddenly very tired. His head felt like it was going to burst.

“Jim then. What is your problem with him? Every time you are in the same room, you always find a way to attack him. And don’t tell me he starts it because he’s been nothing but nice with you. It’s like you wanna hurt me by hurting him.”

“Or maybe I don’t want you to be with him.” He snapped. An eerie silence descended immediately. He shouldn’t have said that. He definitely shouldn’t have said that. He glanced at (Y/N) hoping she hadn’t caught the meaning. She was looking at him in confusion. She opened her mouth to say something and closed it.

“What does that mean?” She managed to say at last.

Erik tightened the quilt around him and turned around; he needed to leave before he said anything more incriminating.

“What does that mean?” She demanded, stomping after him.

“When do you leave?” He countered instead.

“What- day after tomorrow.”

“Good.” He felt sufficiently tired. Sleep may be kind to him after all. “Goodbye.”

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who watched Creed II and is back on her MBJ bullshit?

One of (Y/N)’s favorite places in Wakanda was the well-tended royal gardens. It spanned acres, a massive vibrant carpet of exotic flowers. A light rain at dawn had left the garden a shade brighter. The flower’s heady smell mixed with the petrichor emanating from the wet ground had her intoxicated. She felt herself being transported to a mythical land, untainted by man, isolated from the world’s injustice. The feeling is short lived. A sharp cry startled her and opening her eyes, she found little Nubia hurtling towards her. With glee, she launched herself into her mother’s arms. (Y/N) struggled. Nubia was an oversized puppy, growing every day.

“Mama look-“ She shoved her fist in (Y/N)’s face; a crumpled yellow wing peeked from within. Her little chubby fingers opened to reveal a crushed butterfly.

“Nubia, we do not kill butterflies. They are friends.” She took the unlucky creature, still fluttering its broken wings and placed it on one of the flowers, one she couldn’t name.

“Bu-but I brought it for you.”

(Y/N) kissed her daughter. “Oh honey I know. But you can’t please me by hurting others. If you had shown me while it flew, I’d have appreciated it better.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Not at all sweetheart.” When Nubia didn’t look relieved, something worried her. “What is it?”

Not meeting her eyes, Nubia asked, “Will you forget you me when the new baby come?”

“What? No baby.” (Y/N) let her down, kneeling herself too. “I can never do that to you. We will never do that to you. The baby, she’s going to be your sister. Or a brother, we don’t know yet. You’ll be best friends. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She replied meekly. (Y/N) made a mental note of conversing with Jim about this. She never wanted Nubia to feel alienated. “Now c’m on. Let’s go find papa.”

They walked to the courtyard where Jim was lounging. Nubia detached herself from her mother’s side and ran to him. Only he wasn’t alone. Conversing with him was none other than Killmonger. There was no trace of tension of the explosive fight two nights ago. It was unsettling, watching them engaged in civil conversation.

“Baba! Papa!”

Two men broke contact as Nubia ran to them. Killmonger snatched her into a hug, eyes twinkling. (Y/N) stood perplexed, not knowing how to react till she caught Jim’s eye. A silent agreement pass and she approached the group.

“Erik’s just telling me the King wants us to stay another day.” Jim explained. (Y/N) looked at Killmonger for confirmation and received a nod.

“I don’t know” She began uncertainly, not because she didn’t want to impose but she didn’t know what to do with this unexpected turn of events, “- we have stayed for long and Nubia’s got school-“

“Nubia’s just three. She don’t have to stress ‘bout no school yet.” Erik said to which Nubia with a enthusiastic “yesss”.

She looked at Jim hoping he’d back her up but his expression showed no such support. What did Killmonger say to him, she wondered. Jim was impatient to leave every time they were here before. Overruled, she agreed they will stay the day and Erik departed with Nubia. Once they were gone, (Y/N) turned to her husband.

“Care to explain?”

“A truce. It’s gonna work out.” He shrugged.

* * *

 

It didn’t work in the end and for an entirely different reason.

A new variety of a bio-chemical compound developed by Oscorp supposed to arrive in Shuri’s Lab was hijacked by a surviving Desturi groups that still eluded capture. The party, which was in full swing at the time, was dissolved immediately and everyone was ordered to seek safety.

“I will go ahead.” T’Challa said as he was suiting up. Not exactly suiting up as one moment he was in his fine silk garment, the next moment he was covered in black vibranium. “Once I get in, I’ll send the signal. Shuri will see to the entire operation.”

“I got this brother.” The princess made a gun salute.

“Send for Erik. He’ll accompany me. Okoye inform Iakopa immediately. We need the Flyer on standby.”

“Iakopa is indisposed, Kumkani.” The news prompted a frustrated grunt from the King

“I can go.” Jim stepped forward. “With a bit of instruction, I’m sure I can fly those things.”

T’Challa was considering it. Jim was a retired fighter pilot, honorably discharged from service a couple of years ago. He had flown a couple of passenger crafts since and eventually gave it up for ground instructor position.

“No.” (Y/N) interrupted. She wasn’t about to let him get involved in something so risky especially when they’re expecting their first child.

“Hun-“

“Are you fucking crazy? I won’t let you-“ She seized him by his hand. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know and I’ll be away from it. You heard them, I’m just gonna wait in the Flyer.” He unsuccessfully tried to extract his hands from her iron grip. (Y/N) tightened her grasp, hoping to detain him by force. In the corner of her eyes, she saw Killmonger emerge out of the commotion, dressed for the mission.

“We’re losing time, (Y/N).” T’Challa said. His urgent tone betrayed his impatience.

Sensing her imminent defeat, she used the last weapon left in her arsenal. “We are supposed to build a life together. Don’t you want that? You want our child to grow up without a father?”

“Jesus (Y/N)- of course I want that. But there’s a country at risk. You are at risk by being here and it’ll be there till this threat is taken care of. Tell me you hadn’t made the same choices before.”

“Then let me go. I have more experience than you at this.”

“You are also pregnant. Babe, I swear I’m gonna be careful. You just sit tight and I’m gonna come to you.”

“I’ve found them.” They heard Shuri say.

 “It’ll be okay.” Jim squeezed her arm and then the warm touch was gone. “I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”

She watched him go, a sense of dread descending on her.

“C’m on.” Shuri beckoned her; her kimoyo beads projecting a screen.

They took Nubia to safety, depositing her to the Queen Mother’s care. There’s a chopper on stand-by, ready to depart if things go south. With Shuri, (Y/N) headed toward the control centre. They do not go to Shuri’s lab in Mt Bashenga- it’ll be risky. It’s around where the cargo had been ambushed. No, they land on Birnin Azzaria, the city being 13 mile away from where Shuri tracked the hazardous compound.

“Are you do not want to wait back home?” Shuri asked, fingers flying on the interactive hologram screen. “This can be distressing.”

“Shuri I worked for DIA for years I’m used to this.” (Y/N) snapped irritably.

“I meant for the baby. Stress is bad during pregnancy.” Her soft tone made (Y/N) feel like a fool. She shouldn’t have been so rude with the young girl.

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly and Shuri turned with a kind smile. (Y/N) placed a guarding hand on her belly and moved aside, electing to keep an eye on the moving dot that signified the royal aircraft.

“Shuri.” T’Challa’s voice came through the comm. The Princess immediately rushed to the station.

“Yes brother.”

“How far are they?”

“They have seemed to stop. I’m pulling up satellite image right now. I’m sending it to you.”

“Good. Is everyone safe?”

“Yes almost. We’ve cleared public area and the streets. Brother, the substance has Glycolonitrile as chelating agent. It decomposes into formaldehyde and hydrogen cyanide. You have to be careful. Keep your mask on at all times; tell Erik to do the same. There should be gas masks in the flyer. Everyone should wear one.”

“Got it.”

They wait in anxious silence as the dot approached the red encircled area on the map. The satellite showed a ruined edifice built into the mountains, a fortress. There’s no advantageous point where the aircraft could land; they’ll have to land away and approach by foot.

“Shuri, find me a vantage point.” T’Challa said after disembarking. Erik and rest of the crew were behind him as the five beeping dots on the screen showed. One beeping dot stayed fixed on the aircraft. (Y/N) exhaled, relieved Jim holding on to his promise.

Shuri guided them to entry. The brave adventurers walking into lion’s den. They were met with armed rebels within two minutes. There was cry and rattle of firearms going off. Men screaming as Black Panther’s claw sank on their body.

“There’s nothing on this floor.” T’Challa announced. “Erik, lead them below. Okoye, with me.”

More shouts followed. Even more firearms going off, shells rattling on the concrete floor. The corridor where the fight was going down was overflowing with dots moving around.

“There’s too many.” T’Challa gasped. “I am going-Okoye!”

Okoye’s howl through the comm sent shivers down their spine.

“Yall I prolly got some bad news.” Erik’s voice came through. “I found the compound.”

“Finally! Erik grab that and get out of here-“

“Here’s the problem- it’s wired to some detonator shit. I think the countdown has already begun.”

(Y/N) felt her heart drop all the way to the pit of her stomach. Shuri- (Y/N) marveled at her ability to stay calm- said slowly, “Describe it to me.”

“It’s inside a glass room. The reaction’s already started. I can see yellowish gas- it’s going through the ventilator. Fuck, that shit feeds all of the building. It’s a goddamn trap. Fucking-  I’m gonna-“

“Erik you can’t go in there not without proper suit. I think there should be one on the flyer…Mr. Hansen can you find the hazmat suit? It should be in one of the compartments behind the sixth cabinet. The code is 616.”

“I have it.” Jim declared.

“Great. Erik you have to get that suit.”

“I’m on my way- shit” He was cut off by a group of rebels pouncing on him.

“I will take it to him.” Jim announced.

“The hell you will!” (Y/N) was on her feet. “You can’t go in there.”

“I have to.” His dot was already moving.

“You son of a bitch…what do you have to prove?”

Jim didn’t answer. He was moving fast. It was with Killmonger all over again, watching the man she cared about run off to danger while she could do nothing. She was never going to nothing again.

“I am going there.” She announced, turning towards the exit.

“(Y/N) you can’t-“

“Yes I can. And I will. My husband’s out there. So is the father of my three year old daughter and I’m about to lose both of them so don’t tell me what I can’t. I need one of your carriers. If you won’t give me, I will take one without your permission. You can add it to my charges when we make it back.”

She was airborne in five. Shuri has patched her through the communication channel. Jim was engaged in combat; his hiss and grunts drove knife through her body. She had to hold on. The aircraft dropped her near the royal flyer. The walk or rather the climb from there was excruciating. The metal door to the building was ajar and it opened into a circular corridor. Weapons lay scattered on the blood dyed floor. On her right, a flight of stairs descended into darkness. Wail and scream of wounded men came from there like pit of hell. Heart in her mouth, (Y/N) descended.

A short walk past pile of dead bodies, two of which were Waknadan guards, brought face to face to a glass wall. What she saw inside made her knees go weak. In the middle was a giant apparatus with a yellowish green crystal in its glass womb. A faint yellow gas emanated from the miniscule outlets on the metallic dome above it. At its foot laid Jim in the hazmat suit, arms stretched out to the glass wall, to her. The chemical had eaten away most of his helmet; blue veins visible on his pallid complexion.

“Jim-“ (Y/N) heard herself gasp. It sounded like someone else. Something moved in his blue eyes, now bloodshot.

“No.Noooo-“ She struck the glass with her bare hands. “No please God no-“

Her fist collided with the hard glass. She barely registered the pain. All she cared about at the moment was breaking through the screen and holding him. Her husband- she struck again. And again. And again and again. The skin on her knuckles broke, blood dripping onto the concrete floor. There was no crack on the glass. Only blood.

“Noooo-“ She howled. “C’m on, just break you bloody thing.”

She could hear shouting behind her but all that mattered was her fist colliding with the glass. It was breaking. She could see the crack. Her knuckles hurt badly; there were splinters in them.

“Hold on-“

A hand snaked around her waist, yanking her forcibly.

“No- stop please. Jim. JIM.”

“(Y/N) please.” Killmonger said as he struggled to contain her. “You can’t break the glass. The poison will spread.”

“You don’t understand-“ (Y/N)’s voice was hoarse. She was clawing at him, desperate for release. “Jim’s in there- Jim c’m on. Don’t leave me alone. You promised. Please. _Please_.”

They dragged her away. She fought with all her strength, screaming, biting. They strapped her to the seat in aircraft as the flight took off. T’Challa came and knelt by her, explaining how Jim closed the ventilators thus saving the building from being flooded by poison. She sat heaving with labored breath; the fight had finally deserted her. Her head hurt, so did her belly. Especially her belly. She reached between her legs- there was blood. Lots of blood. Seeping through her clothes. Her head spun.

She had lost their child.


	26. Chapter 26

(Y/N) sat on the floor of her apartment, her head to the glass screen that separated the sweltering San Francisco summer, staring at a robin building its nest. She recalled a past summer, lying on the cool tiles of her home, drawing a mama bird feeding her little blue birds in their nest. It had been a thumb painting.  She had paint smeared to the roots of her hair that earned her a proper scolding from her mother but she had no regret; she was extremely proud of her achievement and a thousand hurtful words couldn’t take that away. She wondered what became of that painting. Had it been thrown away? All of sudden, its worth had multiplied to her. She wanted to hold on to something of her past, something that could tether her to sanity in this turbulent sea of torment.

She anticipated her thoughts straying yet again and forcibly focused on something pleasant. The birds outside. The clear blue sky. She couldn’t. (Y/N) dug her fingers into her arms, raking mercilessly. They left red lines in their wake. She tried to focus on the physical pain, hoping it’d drown her anguish. It’s a failed attempt.

Jim occupied her every moment, waking and ignorant. (Y/N) missed him. She missed the crinkles around his eyes; the reassuring placement of his hand on her back, she missed those too. His blue eyes haunted her dreams, silently begging her to rescue him. She imagined him bound in chain, writhing in pain and herself too helpless to set him free.  Often she found herself waiting for him to appear around the corner. Or walk in through the door. She desperately held on to the fleeting peace, that everything was alright, but they’d soon be followed by realization of the cruel reality and the ache in her heart amplified. She placed her over it, willing it to stop; it never did.

The apartment bell rung. It had been ringing for sometime which (Y/N) was unaware of. Or maybe be she wasn’t; maybe she didn’t want to move. The ring became more insistent. (Y/N) got up, her movement lifeless, and opened the door, letting her sister in.

Akira came in bearing two bags, her arm laden with grocery. She went straight into the kitchen while (Y/N) barred the door and joined her, relieving Akira of her bags.

“Sleep well?” She asked kindly, trying hard not to catch her gaze. (Y/N) recognized her effort toward making it appear normal. It had enraged her at first. How dare they pretend everything was normal? Her life had changed forever. But with time, she understood. Though irksome, she meant well.

“Just fine.” She replied, putting the milk carton in fridge. She caught Akira’s soft smile when she closed the door but didn’t return it. She was too tired. For the past months her dreams have been intensely graphic and without fail included the same scene- the nitric acid melting the hazmat suit; Jim’s bloodshot eyes and his mouth agape. She always woke up in cold sweat. Leaving her sister to sort out breakfast, (Y/N) returned to the living room and slumped on the sofa. The tinkering in the kitchen continued as Akira prepared food.

After she married Jim, she sat down with her family and told them about everything. Well, not everything. They didn’t need to know Killmonger was an assassin and rebel or that he shot her point blank range. They were upset about having a child out of wedlock- as though they still lived in 1930- but welcomed Nubia nonetheless. They probably expected to take care of the child until (Y/N) had finished mourning but Nubia was in Wakanda, safe with her other family. She had left him in Killmonger’s care, something she never thought she’d do but now she couldn’t be any less bothered by it. She hadn’t seen the girl since she left the country with Jim’s body. Did that make her a terrible mother?

“Have you talked to Lucy yet?” Akira set down a plate laden with egg toast, some muffins she got from store and a tall glass of banana smoothie. (Y/N) made no move to get up. Akira shifted on her foot, not knowing how to handle her disinterest and eventually sat down, snatching a toast.

“Well did you?”

(Y/N) buried her face in the pillow. She hadn’t talked to Lucy since the funeral. (Y/N) suspected she blamed her for her brother’s death and honestly, (Y/N) blamed herself too. It’s just that she couldn’t bring herself to care enough to do something about it.

“You are still wearing yesterday’s clothes.” Akira observed. “You can stop wearing black now. It’s been 5 months.”

“No.” (Y/N) hissed vehemently, suddenly coming to life.

“(Y/N)-“ Akira heaved a tentative sigh, “You’ve been like this for months. _Months_. You’re literally comatose, lying in self pity. You are not even trying to help yourself-“

“Akira shut up-“

“No I won’t shut up. You sit here, refusing help, refusing to pull yourself out of this mess. It’s like you don’t want to. Like you _crave_ this punishment. What had happened is not your fault.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. There’s a reason it’s called an accident. It’s not something you are capable of controlling. You have to stop grieving and move on.” With a pause, she added. “Jim would want you to.”

“Oh shut up you fool. You know nothing of Jim or what he wants. Neither do I. He’s dead and it’s my business whether I’m ready to move on or not. Did you ever have someone snatched away from you? Someone you were supposed to build your future with? And now I can’t see the future because he isn’t there. I have no husband and the child in my womb is gone too. So don’t tell me to move on. You know nothing of the pain I’m in.”

Akira was trembling. “I- I only meant I hate seeing you like this.”

“Then leave.” (Y/N) spat, snatching up the pillow and withdrawing into the bedroom.

Sleep evaded her that night. She wanted nothing more than to pop a pill and doze off but she was forming a dependency. So she sat down to meditate. She had been unforgivably rude to her sister. Her need for venting her anger and frustration didn’t justify her cruelty. True she doesn’t know her pain and (Y/N) prayed to God she’d never know. The guilt added to her wretchedness, filled to the brim, now overflowing. Her only salvation was making amends.

In the morning she called Lucy, asking her politely if she would see her. Her next call was Shuri. She had been away for too long; her daughter needed her. Afterward she caught Akira smiling in the kitchen as she prepared lunch.

 

* * *

 

Wakanda was the same. Hovercars buzzed around the tall majestic towers that seemed pierce the sky itself. The glass windows reflected the setting sun, giving off a golden aura. The ground was busy- trams parted the bustling crowd, vendors calling out, men and women lining up in front of clubs looking for a good time. Peace was returning to the country.

“I don’t know how long I’m staying.” (Y/N) told Shuri who had come to greet her at the palace. “It may be a while. Until I feel a bit stable probably if that’s okay?”

“Don’t worry about it. Take as much time you need. You have a place here and not just because of Nubia.”

Nubia, it appeared, wasn’t keen to see her mother. She clung to Killmonger who had appeared when they rounded the corner to (Y/N)’s suite. The bereaved mother dropped the bag she was holding and rushed to her. Only she wouldn’t go to her.

“She doesn’t recognize me.” (Y/N) realized, dropping to her knees. “My daughter doesn’t recognize me.”


	27. Chapter 27

There had been an ache in his chest that had made itself known the moment Erik had come back to life. He wasn’t dead technically but he did think the moment start of a second life. The pain wasn’t something that could be rid off by treatment. It wasn’t from his surgery. No it was guilt and a paralyzing apprehension that he couldn’t pin on anything in particular. And it had intensified since (Y/N) started to live in Wakanda, and hurt twice as much when he physically met with her.

Things had fallen into a pattern. Nubia had warmed up to her mother in no time. Erik paid them visit from time to time. It was hard to get his daughter alone. (Y/N) clung to the child like she survived on her. The allotted time for him were often cut short by (Y/N) who refused to let the girl out of her sight. Erik understood her over protectiveness. Her husband and her child were taken from her in one fell swoop. But he couldn’t be in the same room as her. The tension was overwhelming; he couldn’t stand it. He knew (Y/N) understood his issue and used it to rid off him quick as she could. She couldn’t bear to stand the sight of him. And everyone indulged her out of pity. It drove him to the edge. He was her link to this place and people treated him like he wasn’t in the equation at all.

“You are over-compensating.” He had snapped at last. It was the day before he was going off to Burundi.  “You lost your kid now you gonna shower your other with all the love you couldn’t give the other one.”

Later, in throes of regret, Erik had understood how cruel and insensitive that been.

“It’s all your fault.” Imaro had screamed right back at him. “Every time you come into my life, something bad happens. My life has been nothing but miserable since I met you and the little happiness I knew, it was gone soon as I found your sorry ass was alive.”

Nubia was clutching to her mother’s dress, quaking and whimpering. Erik’s heart ached to reach out and comfort her but (Y/N) stood between them, formidable with smoldering eyes that burnt with unadulterated hatred. He didn’t want this to escalate this high. (Y/N) probably didn’t either. She bent down to pick up Nubia who was in hysterics watching the two at each other’s throat. Before barricading themselves in their quarter, (Y/N) turned to look at him, the anger replaced by sadness.

“You know I wish it was you who died, not Jim. Not Jim.”

* * *

 

 

Erik hurried down tiled arcade that led to the hanger under Mount Bashenga. It housed Wakanda’s newest line of stealth aircrafts. Shuri and her team had outdone themselves yet again, Erik observed once the flights came into view. They were magnificent- streamlined aerodynamic body with sharper wings; the vibranium hull took the color of charcoal striped with purple and gold. One of them suddenly dissolved before his eyes with shimmering purple aura and materialized two seconds later.

T’Challa met him before the royal carrier.

“Another sleepless night?” The king inquired as the ramp lowered.

“What gave it away?” Erik said drily, walking into the vessel’s belly without waiting for his cousin. The interior lit up as the AI identified their presence. T’Challa passed him and bent down to examine the yoke. It was apparently satisfactory as he turned back to Erik.

“Are you-“ He dithered, wondering how to put his question into words considering how delicate the situation is. “Is something the matter with (Y/N)?”

“Something is always the matter with that bitch.” Erik bristled, walking away. He rounded the pilot’s seat and dropped down on the co-pilot’s, strapping himself securely.

“Have you considered she might be in great pain and she may require some understanding?”

“Oh I’ve been ‘understanding’ my nigga but it’s been six months. Six motherfucking months and she can’t let this shit go. She clings to the kid like I’m gonna shred her to pieces. Me! I’m the fucking dad. Jesus. And yall ain’t done nothing but let her do as she pleases. It’s like it don’t even matter how I feel.”

When his rant was over, Erik felt like a petulant child, especially with T’Challa hovering over him like a concerned parent.

“Listen, Erik. I understand, I know things are hard for you and I wish I could tell you there’s an easy solution to this but there isn’t. (Y/N) has been badly hurt and she is barely in the way of recovering. You don’t want to lose her to misery. She has agreed to therapy but she also needs warmth. Compassion. Unlikely as it is, she needs that most from you. You have to open up to her and she will open herself to you.”

“Trust me I tried but talking to her is walking on fucking landmines.”

“It’s a difficult time for her but you need to do this. You need to fight. Fight for her as she once fought for you.”

 

* * *

 

“How’s the little one doing?” Akira’s voice is cool breeze on balmy day. (Y/N) had missed her.

“She’s making a necklace.” The older sister answered watching Nubia stringing bell flowers together with acute concentration. The image flooded her heart with warmth and she gave a chuckle.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just I always thought you’ll be the first have a child. You are a born romantic and you were so good with kids. I was more…pragmatic. No marriage till thirty. No kids till thirty. And now I’m pushing thirty, widowed, had a miscarriage because I was too fucking stubborn, bringing up a child whose father I didn’t even love, I haven’t been in touch with anyone from my office and they are sending me show-cause letter every day. How did I-“ She broke off, panting. Her lungs felt like bursting.

“Hey.” Akira’s voice crackled on the other side. “You’re panicking. You need to calm yourself. Do what your shrink told you.” (Y/N) nodded, not that Akira can see her. She remembered what her therapist told her. Deep breaths. Rub your arm.

“Look you don’t gotta concern yourself with all this. You need to focus on healing right now. Everything will work out.”

“Yeah I don’t think it will.” (Y/N) shook her head, still rubbing her arm.

“Why not?”

“I had a fight with Erik.”

“So? You told yall been fighting since day one.”

“No I told him I wanted him dead. Instead of Jim, he shoulda been dead.”

Akira was silent. It hammered the wedge of guilt further into (Y/N)’s heart.

“Look sis, I’m just speculating and this is prolly me being a dumbass but I don’t think you hate him. Or you do but you feel something for him. You have always felt something for him and you felt like it’s unfair to Jim and that’s why you can’t let him go.”

“Are you saying I’m excessively upset about Jim cuz I don’t wanna validate what I feel for…for Erik? Is that what you saying?”

“I don’t know. It don’t make sense when I said it out loud.”

“You are reaching.” (Y/N) laughed but her inside was churning. “You are fucking reaching.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t have to be complicated. You just focus on getting out of this. One day at a time. It’s terrible Jim had to die like this but you have to move on with life. You can’t keep chasing ghost.”

“Okay.” (Y/N) heaved a sigh. “I’m gonna go check on something. Thanks for the talk Kira. Imma get back to you later.”

Hanging up, (Y/N) requested a ride to Mt. Bashenga. She wanted to get out and Shuri had always been an uplifting company. The airborne vehicle zoomed past the city in a blur, leaving behind acres and acres of yellow grassland and dropped her down on the mouth of the grotto. The maglav trains swirled around the glass cage of elevator that took (Y/N) down.

“The princess is busy.” The sentry replied when she asked to meet Shuri. (Y/N) could taste the hostility in her heavy accent. (Y/N)’s heart sank. Had she pushed everyone too far? Her brain gnawed at her. They were tired of her antic; she probably wasn’t welcome anymore. How could she miss that?

“Please. I just need to-“

“She is not here.” The guard replied firmly. Her tone cemented (Y/N)’s fear. She exhaled and grabbed Nubia’s hand ushering themselves out.

While she waited for their ride to arrive, a royal carrier touched down the tarmac. Princess Shuri emerged wearing a grim countenance. The guard wasn’t lying then.

“Nubia!” Her eyes lit up momentarily and she rushed to them. (Y/N) knew her fears were baseless. They still cared about her.

“What is it?” She asked Shuri, noticing how rattled she was.

“Oh it’s nothing.” She tried to wave it off. (Y/N) had a feeling it was because she didn’t want to bother her.

“Shuri?”  (Y/N) pressed.

The teenager glanced at her gravely. “Erik and brother’s flight went down.”

“You can’t track them?”

“No the tracker’s still on but they are surrounded by armed hostiles. We may not reach them in time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peers out of safe house?* is it okay to come out?


	28. Chapter 28

“Where do you think we at?” T’Challa heard Erik yell over the rattling of machine guns. The bullet pattered on the vibranium aircraft like hails on glass ceiling.

“I don’t know. The GPS was shot before we went down.”

“FUCK.”

T’Challa had never been one to tolerate profanities but at this particular moment, the vulgarity resonated with his spirit. This was supposed to be a simple rescue mission. The provided intel was that a small convoy was transporting a dozen of slaves through Kayanza Province- five people were enough for the operation. T’Challa had done more with just Okoye and Nakia as help. What they didn’t account for was a massive sonic blaster in possession of the traffickers. A rocket first blasted them off course and when the aircraft came within firing range. Then the sonic blaster took charge, ripping the hull of the aircraft in two. One half of the Talon Fighter crashed through nets of branches and thickets finally coming to halt in a tangle of ivy. No sooner they have gathered footing the firing squad was upon them. They fell back, looking for cover. The vibranium of the aircraft barely provided any protection after sustaining such a scale of damage

“I told you they got their hands on those sonic blasters.” Erik grumbled, crouching behind him, shielding an injured Dora.

“Those sources were unreliable.”

“Does it look reliable now?”

“Now is not the time Erik.” T’Challa spied his opening as the traffickers began to reload their mounted gun and activated his suit, pouncing on their vehicle immediately. His vibranium claws tore the armored car to shreds but it also brought the free terrorist’s full attention to him. The shower of bullets ricocheted off him and the Black Panther was forced to retreat.

“There’s too many of them.”

“You don’t say.”

T’Challa turned to face him, his nose flaring in exasperation. “They have called reinforcements. We have to take them out before we are overwhelmed.” He looked around the broken interior of the jet, scanning for viable weapons.

“How? In case you ain’t noticed we got nothing to counter their-“ He didn’t get to finish as T’Challa shoved something into his hand. It’s a necklace. The Golden Jaguar necklace within whose teeth sat another vibranium suit akin to the Black Panther but gold and spotted. It felt heavy on his hand even though this particular metal was characteristically lightweight. He had worn it years ago- it felt like a dream; another lifetime.

“Do not make me regret it.” T’Challa said. Erik smirked. The activation of suit sent ripples of current through him. It shredded his clothes and spread on his naked skin like butter. He felt the power coursing through him- it was thrumming in his sinew. With a flick, his vibranium talons were out and glistening in the feeble rays of sun filtering through canopy.

 

* * *

 

 

Inside the belly of the Great Mound, the lab was in turmoil; its occupants ran about in urgency. Giant screen displayed several maps and related data. Holograms lit up the core of the lab. The state of frenzy had even contaminated young Nubia. “I want Baba!” She wailed repeatedly, drawing looks of sympathy and annoyance. (Y/N) had to send her off- she couldn’t think with a hysteric child clutching her apron. She’d be safer with her grandmother.

Shuri watched the aircraft take off toward Birnin Zana as she awaited her own flight. She had already donned her gear- protective vest and sonic blasters on her both arms.

“Princess?” Her earpiece crackled.

“Yes Okoye?”

“The Red team has been deployed. We are heading to the site.”

“I will join you there.”

“Shuri!” The teenager cut off the line and turned around. (Y/N) was rushing at her. She was out of breath when she reached Shuri, panting hard. “You can’t go with them.”

“My brother is out there. I can’t _not_.”

“I understand but you have to consider Erik and T’Challa are both there. If you go to them and none of you make it, your line will be left without an heir. Wakanda will be thrown into another political crisis and it just recovered from one. I’m sorry if I sound insensitive right now but you have a difficult choice to make. This country can’t afford to lose you.”

The gravity of decision was visibly preying on Shuri; she looked torn, looking from her to the descending aircraft. “I _want_ to be there. I can’t give up on him. Or Erik.”

“I know the feeling and believe me I want to too but I have to think rationally. Last time I let my emotions overcome me and I lost Jim and our child. I couldn’t have helped but I still went there because I had to do something. I may hate Erik with every cell of my body but I don’t him to die. If I go to him and something happens, our child will be left without parents. I choose to remain here for the sake of her and its tearing me apart too. But I have made my choice.”

Her confession broke down the Princess and she ran into (Y/N)’s arms, trying to smother her sobs in the crook of her shoulder. “I am scared. I don’t know what to do.”

“Ssh. It’s okay.” (Y/N) soothed her. “We gotta run this operation from here and hope for the best.”

“Yes.” Shuri detached herself from (Y/N)’s embrace, making an effort to pull herself together. “Nakia is in Nairobi. She’s closer than the rest of us. Let me see if she is done with her assignment. She can go in my stead.”

 

* * *

 

Miles away in the middle of jungle, three souls moved in silence. They were heading toward the smoke of emanating from the other part of the forest where the other part of the aircraft had presumably crashed. They could no longer see however. The flora grew denser by the minute, the wet earth underneath dampening the sound of their footsteps. Erik led the trio; with deft use of his claws he slashed the green to make way. T’Challa was behind him, carrying the injured Dora.

“We need to rest.” T’Challa announced breaking the hour long silence.

“Whatchu talking ‘bout? We’re this close?”

“Erik we have been going on for hours. We have probably lost our ways.” Without waiting for him, he laid down their companion on the ground and guided her to lean against trunk of a tree.

“Yo don’t look at me like that. You was the one who decided to stray from the site. We coulda sit there tight till help arrived.”

“No we could not. We would have been swarmed by hostiles if we stayed another moment. Besides we have to check on the others. See if they made it.”

“Prolly not. I’ve been trying the comms. No answers. They dead as fuck.”

T’Challa huffed and sat down next to the guard. “Hold on Asha. Just keep it pressed.”

Asha had been swaying in and out of consciousness. She had lost a lot of blood. The kimoyo beads weren’t helping much; she didn’t have much time. It hurt T’Challa to keep the truth to himself but that was what being a king was- doing what was right even if it was tearing himself from the inside. It seemed, despite his best efforts, Erik glimpsed the weight weighing him down. He stopped grousing and sat down opposite him, his back against a tendril wrapped stone. They were losing hope as quickly as the daylight. Dusk was drawing its dusky veil over nature and silence fell upon them. They won’t make it to the other crash site and it was too late to find their way back where rescue party might be looking for them.

Sometime later T’Challa moved. He picked up Asha’s limp hand and a moment later let it fall back. Erik looked at him inquisitively; T’Challa sighed and turned away his gaze.

“This was an ambush.” T’Challa hummed. Whatever team had been sent for them would face an army of terrorists. In the war zone, they wouldn’t find their king or his cousin. They had been systematically obliterating trafficking chains and drug lords. This was how they retaliated. There was someone, probably within their own system who helped them set the trap. It was likely the aircraft was compromised too, seeing how quickly its system went offline.

“I shouldn’t have said those things.” Erik found himself saying.

“What things?”

“Those things I said ‘bout (Y/N). I shouldn’t have done that.” He wanted to see T’Challa’s expression. The darkness made it impossible.

“And how did you arrive at this conclusion?”

“Asha. She had a fight with her girl before we took off. She wanted her to leave the Dora but Asha didn’t. They’d have sorted it out when she got back but now… They’ll never get that. Me and (Y/N) we said some shit but we shouldn’t have parted the way we did. We probably won’t get the chance to sort it out either.”

“Erik.” T’Challa voice was soft, tentative. “This isn’t the end for you. You’ll see (Y/N) again. And your daughter. You will make your peace.”

The words rang hollow for Erik. It had been different when he had been stranded with (Y/N) last year. He didn’t know if they were going to make it but he was content to die in her company. She wasn’t here now. “It was the end for Asha.” He said ruefully.


	29. Chapter 29

An insistent buzzing sound woke Erik from his slumber. His first impression was being surrounded by thousands of mosquitoes that have plagued him throughout the night. But there was something distinctly mechanical about this sound- it’s unvarying intensity. Like a drone. He attuned his ear to hear more. He immediately caught rustle of leaves and branches and faint sound of people talking. His eyes snapped open and searched for his companions. T’Challa having exhausted himself was slumped on Asha’s lifeless corpse.

“T’Challa.” Erik nudged his cousin with his toes. The Black Panther grunted but did not stir. “Psst. Challa. Oi.”

The sudden and brutal jab to his throat woke the King immediately.

“What in Bast?” He spluttered in vexation, clutching his throat.

“Listen.” Erik hissed. T’Challa looked bewildered but he heeded nonetheless, listening intently, barely succeeding in restraining his coughing feet. The buzzing sound grew louder; as did the voices. The two men withdrew further into the bush, dragging the body of the fallen Dora. Erik held his breath, anxiously awaiting the drone to appear. It did seconds later- a compact, sleek design hovering five feet above the ground. Its four blades whirred loudly and a red light blinked in its centre.

“It’s one of ours.” T’Challa declared, getting up on his feet. Relief washed over Erik and he abandoned his crouching position. They heard footsteps not far away and moments later an armored Okoye lead a troop to the scene, clutching her spear firmly.

“ _Kumkani!_ ” A relieved grin broke her stoic façade. T’Challa embraced her and when they broke apart, his eyes fell upon the beautiful woman in distance.

“Nakia.” The king gasps, rushing to his betrothed. He pulled her into a tight embrace and the two kiss passionately.

“You stubborn man.” Nakia chastised between kiss.  Their happiness was infectious; Erik found his heart ache for someone too. He quickly banished the unsavory thought and guided the team to the dead body of Asha. The elation disappeared immediately and grimness of reality regained its hold.

They were briefed on what transpired when they were lost. The rescue team had reached the other site and found one surviving Dora after the showdown with the terrorists. T’Challa was expected to address why he had trespassed into Burundi without consent from the country’s president. Erik had no such repercussions to suffer so he permitted himself to doze off during the comfortable flight back to Wakanda.

A small band of welcoming party awaited them, circled around the landing platform. They were upon the homecoming party soon as they disembarked.

“Brother.” Shuri said tearfully, hanging on to the king for dear life. “I would have come for you, brother. Believe me, I would have.”

“I know Shuri. I know. But I am home now. Safe. You don’t have to worry.”

Queen Ramonda had been watching the siblings, allowing them to express their emotions while she tried hard to keep hers in check. Her heart had been breaking, knowing her eldest was out there stranded in a jungle, fighting for his life. Breaking away from Shuri, T’challa rushed to his mother.

“My son.” She kissed her forehead, feeling, making sure this really was him. She dreaded the moment he won’t be.

“You are still worrying.” T’Chala said in mock anger. The Queen Mother gave a wry smile.

“That’s what mothers do. We always worry. Till the day we die.”

“Please mother, say nothing of such things.”

Erik shrunk away from the little family reunion, dejection bubbling in his empty heart. He was once again reminded he had no one in the world. He had blood relatives, hell even a daughter but he doubted he meant anything to them as they meant for him. He turned on his heels- he had some grazes that needed medical attention.

All of a sudden, he was pulled back by bony little arms wrapping around his waist.

“It’s great to have you back, Erik.” Shuri mumbled against his back. The stiffness in his shoulder dissolved and Erik allowed himself to bask in the affection, warmth washing over him.

Back to the palace, they were met by (Y/N) and Nubia, the latter of whom sprinted toward Erik the moment she spotted her father and despite the soreness on his muscles, Erik picked her easily and kissed her.

“Baba you didn’t come to tuck me in last night.” She said in her broken baby sentences. “Mama sent me to bed and she didn’t even tuck me in.”

Erik laughed at her adorable pout and glanced at (Y/N) standing few feet away. He had tried not to harbor any expectation- after the way they fought but there she was, smiling fondly. His laughter ceased and he found himself lost in her happiness. She was smiling for the first time in months! And it was for him. Not exactly but clearly she was glad to have him back. It’s only for Nubia’s happiness, a small voice in his head supplied and the giddiness died instantly. He cleared his throat and returned his attention to his daughter.

“Come.” (Y/N) was holding her arms. “Let baba get cleaned up, yeah?”

Erik let her take Nubia away, their arms touching briefly for a moment. Erik doubted she had the same sensation as he did from that accidental touch. He watched her walk away, looking back once with that dubious smile of hers.

Sighing, he took his leave from T’Challa and collected essential medical supplies and proceeded to his chamber.

In the privacy of his room, he stripped down and plucked a plush towel from the closet. His Golden Jaguar necklace he locked in a secure vault set in the wall. In the middle of chaos T’Challa had forgotten to ask it back. Or maybe he wanted Erik to have it. He prayed it was the latter. In his bathroom, he dumped the gauzes and ointment on the basin cabinet and pulled out a tie to tame his dreads.

His wounds were limited to epidermis but many were in places difficult to reach. He dabbed the places he could access with antiseptic and covered it with ointment. The cut on near his naval made by a metal splinter was particularly long and Erik required two band-aids to cover it up. The abrasions on his back proved to be more difficult. He angled his body to get a sense of direction from his reflection in the mirror.

The ding of bell startled him and he almost dropped the moist cotton ball.

“Yeah?”

“It’s (Y/N).” Came a quiet voice. Erik went still. (Y/N)? What was she doing here? Something must have happened, he concluded.

“Coming.” He grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his nakedness, barking ‘Open’ at the door. AI operated door parted to reveal (Y/N) standing with her hands clasped, a hesitant look on her face.

“What’s happened?”

(Y/N) looked dumbfounded. “What? No- nothing has happened.”

“Oh.”

Seeing the danger of impending awkwardness, (Y/N) said, “I was wondering how you were doing.”

“Oh.” Say something else, you dumb idiot, his inner voice snapped.

“And I thought-“ (Y/N) continued to say, her eyes falling on his pathetic appearance. “Well seeing how we left things and uh- I think it’s a bad time. You were cleaning up and-“

“No!” Jesus fucking Christ, was he only capable of spewing single syllables?

“I meant yeah. No I meant nah. It ain’t a bad time.”

 “Are you sure?” (Y/N) looked skeptic and color rushed to Erik’s cheek. God fucking dammit.

“Yeah.” He said quickly.

“Okay.” (Y/N) still looked like she needed convincing. “So uh- should I come in?”

“What? Oh.” God he was a literal clown, standing like a fool. He scrambled aside to let her in, murmuring a soft ‘close’ at the door. The mechanical door slipped shut with barely any noise.

Having never been to Erik’s quarters, (Y/N) examined his habitat. Her eyes roamed from the discarded clothes on the floor to the unlocked closet to the bathroom door that was ajar. Feeling utterly useless, Erik fled the scene, seeking sanctuary in the bathroom where he can find something useful to do.

“Need any help?” She offered; Erik, of course, declined.

“I see where Nubia gets her messiness.” He heard (Y/N) say. Erik had to applaud her for trying to lighten the mood.

“I see where she gets her temper too.” He shot back and was relieved to hear a low chuckle. It died down moments later and the room went silent like a graveyard. Erik wondered if he should say something to make her feel comfortable but he was afraid to disturb the delicate peace.

“So-“ (Y/N) was heard some time later. “I was thinking. We have been at each other’s throat for so long and this just keeps getting worse. I have said some things- we both have said some things we wish we didn’t.” She paused as if she was waiting for him to refute her statement. When he didn’t, she continued.

“And after last days events I realized how much I’d regret if something really bad happened. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” Clunk- the forceps Erik was using to apply the antiseptic slipped from his hold and clattered on the floor.

(Y/N) was at the bathroom door in an instant. “Are you okay?”

“Just fine.” He clutched the towel slipping from his waist and picked up the forceps. Composing himself, he picked up another cotton ball and methodically swiped it over his scratches on his neck. He tried to reach for the ones in his back and only managed to hurt his sprained muscles.

“You sure you don’t want no help?”

“Nah I’m good.” He tried to reach again, dropping the forceps for a second time.

“Let me.” (Y/N) stepped, apparently having taken pity on his pathetic attempts. Erik let her take control, stepping aside to allow her access. She dropped the metal instrument and opted for a wipe. The abrasions stung soon as it came in contact with the antiseptic.

“As I was saying-“ She continued as she deftly disinfected his wounds. “The last memory I had of you coulda been of us fighting. It’d have haunted me all my life. Everything that happened yesterday and today, I realized I don’t want this to continue. I’m tired of fighting. I don’t want my daughter to grow up in a broken home where two parents constantly fought. Lets…let’s call a truce.”

“Yeah.” Erik breathed. “Yeah, let’s.”

The press of (Y/N)’s hand on his back disappeared and he despaired at the loss. He supposed he should check her handiwork and caught her eyes when he looked in the mirror. The smile on her face was warm; it felt like home.

“See you around then.” She returned the wipe to the cabinet and exited, leaving Erik catch up with his breathing.

 

 


End file.
